Enchanté
by rpgirl27
Summary: 1858- Edward wins a plantation during a poker game and he and his father decide to begin a new life in New Orleans. What happens when Edward is introduced to a peculiar custom and a beautiful girl at a private ball? AH,OOC,mostly canon couples.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: This shizz ain't mine. If it was, I wouldn't be poor as a church mouse.**

**Edward, Bella and the whole cast of characters belong to S Meyers. I'm just throwing them back in time and using this fic as a thinly disguised fantasy involving Rob in (and out) of period costume! That being said, don't steal my plot line or my words…this fandom is large and you will undoubtedly be found out. How embarrassing.**

**A/N**

**This is my first attempt at fan fiction. Actually, this is my first attempt at creative writing in *scratches head* five years? Feel free to comment, or not comment whatev. Nothing you can say can be worse than my MIL's critiquing of my parenting skills!**

**Warning: this fic is definitely rated M. There will be violence, foul language, drug use and SEX! WOOT! If any of those are unacceptable to you, don't read any further. Oh and this takes place in the antebellum South. That means prior to the Civil War and it also deals with racial issues. If those subjects offend you, look elsewhere. Remember as well, the negative opinions of some of the characters are certainly not shared by the author *points finger to self* I will have to use some words that I would not normally use in everyday conversation as they are nowadays considered offensive. However, I refuse to use that word *whispers* you know….that word….the n word, no matter how historically accurate it may be. I will use slightly less inflammatory words.**

**Note: Edited and reposted 6/9/10 with the assistance of**: **Binky and ilovenaley**

"Edward?"

"Hmm."

"Are you even looking?"

"I don't understand the point of this father."

"The point? Does there have to be a point to looking at beautiful women?"

I looked up from the tiled floor, which had formerly held my bored gaze. My father, Edward Sr., stood before me positively vibrating with excitement. He wrung his hands together and his eyes danced about the room, flitting quickly from one couple to the next before looking back down at me. Apparently, he was expecting an answer.

"No sir, there does not. I just don't understand this particular custom. It seems a bit peculiar. Why seek a woman to warm your bed in _this_ way when there are perfectly good whores just a short distance from here? And quite a bit less expensive I might add."

"Because my dear boy, this is not Chicago and _this_ is the way the gentlemen operate here. And I _will_ have your cooperation with this," he demanded.

"So now you wish to be seen as a gentleman? You've never shown such an inclination before. I certainly have never claimed to be such," I replied with a quiet snort.

"Chicago does not boast of its gentlemen but as I said, we are not in Chicago. We are in New Orleans now and we will act accordingly. You know, 'when in Rome' and all that."

He turned his back to me, and resumed ogling the ladies that flew past our little corner of the room on the arms of their partners, as if they had wings sutured to the heels of their tiny slippers. The house band played an up tempo waltz, and the giddy laughter of a hundred lovely ladies filled the air. I returned to my earlier analysis of the tiled floor, but I allowed for an infrequent glance towards the dancing couples, and around the periphery of the room where other unaccompanied gentlemen lounged languidly with their glasses of bourbon in hand.

My thoughts wandered back to my father's speech in an effort to dissect his motivations. I could not understand why he was being so insistent. He had never desired to keep a woman before, and I simply didn't see where this change of heart was coming from.

Once again my father turned to address me, "You know Edward; this doesn't mean you have to give up your whores. I certainly don't intend to."

A light chuckle escaped me, and I shook my head back and forth slowly. "No father, I never thought you would. Nor would I care to give up my favorite past time."

"Mr. Masen." My head jerked up and I noticed a portly, blonde haired man about my father's age, making his way towards our corner. Following closely behind him was another, much younger blonde haired man who walked with an awkward gait and seemed to be favoring his left arm.

"Mr. Masen, let me introduce you to my son, Major Jasper Whitlock. He's recently returned from a stint out West."

My father quickly grasped the outstretched hand of the elder Mr. Whitlock, and then his son. "Edward, come here and meet my dear friend, Mr. Whitlock and his son," he called over his shoulder.

I arose from the chaise I had been relaxing upon, and stretched quickly before sauntering over and proffering my hand to Mr. Whitlock, and then to his son. Major Whitlock appeared not much older than my twenty-three years and was well built and sinewy. Obviously his time spent on our western frontier had included manual labor, as well as the leadership role his rank suggested. His hands were rough and calloused, his face and neck bore the scars of battles past, but the scars themselves did not mar the handsomeness of his features. They did however add a hint of menace to his otherwise boyish face.

"Major Whitlock, Mr. Whitlock, a pleasure to meet you. I am Edward Masen."

"I hear you two may be staying on permanently since you've managed to get yourself a plantation," Mr. Whitlock inquired.

"Yes, we hadn't intended to originally, but with the acquisition of Evergreen, we've decided to make our home here and resume our shipping business," I replied.

"Edward is quite skilled in games of chance, and while I was of the opinion before that one could not win much more than pocket change in such activities, I have been proven wrong. Though I do believe it is not every day that young men are so foolish as to wager their entire estate in a game of cards," my father added. A hearty laugh was had by all of us at the expense of the silly boy I had relieved of his plantation.

"New Orleans is an excellent location for a shipping business. The port is the busiest in the southern states, qualified workers are numerous, and the ambiance," Mr. Whitlock paused and scanned the dance floor with a lecherous smirk and a raise of his brow, "is like no other city in America."

"Are you both in the market for a new lady or are you only assisting in the acquisition of one for your son, Mr. Whitlock?" inquired my father.

"Mainly I am here for Jasper, but who's to say what I might find for myself! And you Mr. Masen, are you seeking a lady for yourself? I've never known you to keep to just one lady."

"Ah, you should know Mr. Whitlock; one woman will never be enough for me. I'm more interested in finding Edward a lovely young lady with which to set up housekeeping. You see, he's entirely opposed to the idea of matrimony and I am determined to have a _legitimate_ grandchild one day soon."

With those words, the point of this whole ridiculous foray finally became clear to me. My father, _my dear father_ wanted me to learn the pleasures of having a wife without actually being married, in hopes that I would acquiesce and allow him to marry me off to some wilting southern belle and produce offspring to carry on the _great name_ of Masen. I flushed red with a mix of embarrassment and rage. Of course this was just another one of his schemes, yet another way to goad me into doing his bidding.

"Sir, you should know better than any man the many reasons why I am particularly opposed to matrimony," I answered tersely.

"Careful there boy, your face is turning the same shade as your hair!" Mr. Whitlock patted me roughly on the shoulder before breaking into what could only be described as a fit of giggles. My thinly disguised sneer was the only reply I was able to give which would be acceptable in polite society. As I attempted to recover my usual stony countenance, Mr. Whitlock turned back to my father.

"Come Mr. Masen; let us find ourselves a soothing beverage and a quiet corner to chat. I'm sure our boys here would enjoy each other's company without the inconvenience of parental supervision."

"Very well sir, lead the way," my father replied jovially. Of course he'd be happy, he thought he was getting his way, as per usual.

"It appears as though your father gets his way as often as mine does," Major Whitlock remarked, as he made his way closer to me.

"You've heard my father's reasons for attending this event. What does your father hope to achieve by saddling you with one of these lovely ladies?"

"As he said earlier, I have recently returned from Texas and have been decommissioned from the Army due to my wounding at Devils River last July. I am suffering from some…lingering issues and my father wishes me to have both constant care and a companion until the time when I am well enough to seek a wife," Major Whitlock explained.

"Why not simply employ a nurse?"

"Well sir, I'm sure you understand that there are certain activities you can not expect a _respectable_ nurse to engage in," he said with a wink and a small smile.

We both stood there silently for some time while surveying the dance floor. The music had changed and the dancers now twirled past at a much slower rate, allowing us to scan the faces of the passersby. All the ladies appeared quite lovely in their flouncing gowns which displayed ample amounts of décolletage and their soft arms embraced their partners while keeping the proper space between their forms.

"Anyone catch your eye out there Masen?"

"No, and I don't intend on choosing any one of these ladies. I will not allow my father to win this round. It will only encourage him to find me a wife and I'll be damned if I'll be having one of those!" I snapped.

"Ah, but I have heard of your father's persuasive powers. He's already quite well known amongst the other planters for always getting what he wants."

"He doesn't always get his way. We wouldn't be in New Orleans if he did." As if sensing my agitation, Major Whitlock did not enquire further on that point but instead changed the subject.

"So you'll be setting up a shipping company here? You'll have some stiff competition. There are already several well-known firms in operation, some for many generations. Not to mention you're also Northerners. That alone will discourage the old Creole families from investing with you."

"Yes, those are valid points, but I have a feeling this whole debacle," I paused and made a circular motion with my hand, indicating the dance floor, "is part of my father's plan to fit in. Before you arrived he was giving me the 'when in Rome' speech. He also enjoys a challenge. He does not like to be told no, ever. We also don't have to rely only on the Creoles, even though they are still a force to be reckoned with here. The influx of the Americans uptown has opened up a new market and they will undoubtedly give us their business. Besides, your father and yourself are not native to this area either and you've done well for yourselves, if appearances are to be believed." I allowed myself a moment to take in his elegant silk waistcoat, his stiffly pressed shirt and the gold rings, which adorned several fingers of each hand.

"As you well know Masen, it helps to have old family money." He cocked his eyebrow and gave my clothing and accoutrements a once over as well.

"Your father and mine must know each other well since you seem to know so much about me sir."

"I believe our fathers have often interacted in business; and they might also enjoy some of the same pleasures," he added with a cheeky grin.

"I see," I said with a laugh. "They've been whoring together haven't they? I'm beginning to believe my father gets as much business done when he is seeking pleasure as he does when he is actually in his office!"

"Why have it any other way?" he laughed as well. "Come, let us get a glass of fine bourbon whiskey and continue this discussion. I'm sure you have many stories of your own to tell in regards to business _and_ pleasure. Then maybe I can regale you with stories of Comanche war parties and my time in the service of Lee and Johnston. Would you mind if I called you Edward? And of course you may call me Jasper. Let us dismiss the formalities and call ourselves friends. Shall we?"

He turned to me and awaited my answer. Who was I to say no to such a generous suggestion? I was in need of a friend and Jasper seemed like he would be an excellent comrade-in-arms.

"Of course sir, I will have to agree on all counts. Now let's find those whiskeys!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Still not mine. Will never be mine. This plot and my written drivel ARE mine. Stealing sux and karma is a bitch. So am I and so will be my foot up your ass if you copy. **_**Well that sounds classy…**_

**A/N:**

**Sooooo, people are reading this? Not sure how I feel about that.**

_**Obviously you like it or you wouldn't post your story where others can read it.**_

**Hmmmm I'm kind of nervous now…..I think there's a little something coming out of my pants…..**

**Always good to start a new chapter with a bit of Robhumor isn't it?**

**Oh right, the new chapter….so there's a **_**bit**_** of slash (I **_**think**_** it will be the only instance) coming in this one and drug use…there's your warning *no butt secks*. If that offends your delicate sensibilities don't let the door i.e.: the "back button" hit ya on the way out.**

**BTW, I do try and make this as historically accurate as possible cuz I'm a freak like that. If I mention a location or a street, it's probably real or at least it was in 1858.**

**Still here? Okay then let's go…..**

**Note: Edited and reposted 6/9/10 with the assistance of Binky and shelle87**

Jasper and I headed over to the bar, retrieved our whiskeys from the colored bartender and wandered over to one of the alcoves on the balcony overlooking St. Philip Street. The night air was sticky as always, but the heat of the day was long over.

"Cigar?" Jasper offered.

"Absolutely, thank you." We puffed silently for some time, both of us quite happy to watch the carriages come and go. Their way was lit by the gaslights that ran the length and breadth of the street below.

"Care to tell me the story of how you obtained Evergreen? Did you truly swindle the LaFontaine boy at the poker table?"

I thought a moment before answering. "I didn't _swindle_ him. I merely schooled him on how to play a good game. That boy shouldn't have gambled his whole plantation, especially after I emptied his pockets of cash during the first few rounds."

"Yes, but you stripped him of practically all his earthly goods on his father's own river boat! I'm surprised you ever made it off the boat alive. If that had been me, I would have challenged you to a duel, at least. I can't believe he handed over the deed without a fight."

I really didn't want to confess the details of that night to Jasper, but I felt I had to give him something by way of an answer. "We worked out an arrangement. His father is very ill and confined to bed, so I am allowing him and LaFontaine to stay in the house as if nothing has changed. I don't really know anything about running a plantation as of yet, so the boy is staying on as an overseer. His father will never know that his son is a complete fool and LaFontaine will have a roof over his head, for awhile at least." I shrugged my shoulders and sighed before finishing my thought, "If I don't need him anymore, I won't think twice about sending him away."

Jasper and I returned to a companionable silence and my thoughts drifted over the events of the last few months. With only the barest of necessities, my father and I had boarded a steamboat and headed down the Mississippi River with no real plan as to how to put our lives back together. We left Chicago under cover of darkness, closing up our family home and leaving a distant cousin in charge of its maintenance. Earlier that same day, we had sold our company, Masen Holdings, to our closest competitor for half its value. It was still a tidy sum but an added embarrassment nonetheless.

I spent the first two days of our trip downriver in a state of constant drunkenness. It seemed an adequate reaction.

My father, the eternal optimist, acted as is nothing had changed. He spent his time schmoozing with the other passengers and flirting with their wives.

Everything the last three generations of Masens had built up, my father and I had helped to topple. My family name had been drug through the mud to the degree that we could no longer live in the city we had quite recently paraded around like kings.

By the third day, I couldn't stand to look at the inside of my cabin anymore. My body was stiff from too much drink and very little movement. I decided to walk the deck and get some air before rigor mortis set in. The deck was small and didn't allow for any vigorous activities, but at least it was more exercise than fumbling to the door and hailing a deckhand to bring me another bottle of whiskey.

I managed to avoid all the other passengers and so saved myself the agony of polite conversation. I found an empty chair to the rear of the steamer and was very happy to see that it was situated in such a way that I was almost entirely obscured from view. Nestled in between the chair and the wall was a small table upon which sat several days worth of newspapers, a catalogue featuring farm equipment and a pamphlet entitled _Confessions of an English Opium Eater. _Admittedly, it was a rather strange assemblage of documents.

The newspapers and catalogue I disregarded, and instead, I picked up the pamphlet, which detailed the pleasures and pain of opium usage. Of course, I only glanced over the pain portion; I never did like to consider negative consequences and had often been accused of rash decision-making. I found the following argument for opium over alcohol particularly compelling:

_The pleasure given by wine is always mounting and tending to a crisis, after which it declines; that from opium, when once generated, is stationary for eight or ten hours: the first, to borrow a technical distinction from medicine, is a case of acute—the second, the chronic pleasure; the one is a flame, the other a steady and equable glow. But the main distinction lies in this, that whereas wine disorders the mental faculties, opium, on the contrary (if taken in a proper manner), introduces amongst them the most exquisite order, legislation, and harmony. Wine robs a man of his self-possession; opium greatly invigorates it. Wine unsettles and clouds the judgment, and gives a preternatural brightness and a vivid exaltation to the contempts and the admirations, the loves and the hatreds of the drinker; opium, on the contrary, communicates serenity and equipoise to all the faculties, active or passive, and with respect to the temper and moral feelings in general it gives simply that sort of vital warmth which is approved by the judgment…_

In light of the fact that I had spent the last two days in a drunken stupor, the comparison struck me so much that I decided to forego drinking all together and work on procuring myself some opium.

"Ooooh, Edward!" I was jolted out of my thoughts by the calling of my name. No, let me amend that, the moaning of my name. It had been far too long since I had heard my name moaned like that. Why it must have been nearly four days.

"Ooooh, Edwaaaard!" My eyes swept the deck but not one moaning damsel did I see.

"Ooooooh, Eeeeedwaaaard!" I stood up quickly and realized there was an open porthole to my left. One peek inside told me all I needed to know. My father had decided to drown his sorrows not in liquor but in the captain's wife's cunt. Typical.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to return to my cabin and not leave it again for the rest of the trip, but firstly, I had to empty the meager contents of my stomach over the side of the steamer.

Upon arriving in St. Louis, the captain advised us that we would be allowed to briefly disembark while the steamer took on supplies. I quickly gathered myself together, smoothing out my clothes and rubbing a bit of pomade into my hair in an effort to tame it.

I had thought that my father might wish to make this city our new home and I said as much to him when I passed him on my way to the gangplank.

"I do not like the air in Missouri," he said between puffs of his cigar.

"The air, Sir?"

He looked over to me and nodded in the affirmative. "It's always so full of tension. I would have thought it would settle down after they were finally admitted to the Union, but there's just too many hot heads here. I want to try some place different."

His face looked almost wistful as he continued on, "A new place, far removed from any experience we've had before."

"So, it's on to New Orleans then?"

"That's right my dear boy. I think we'll find a much more _satisfying_ future there than anywhere else."

I took my leave of him and hurriedly made my way through the crowds on the dock. I found a man with a carriage for hire and asked him to take me to the nearest apothecary. To my delight, I found that it was quite easy to persuade the druggist to part with a bottle of opium. As I left the shop, I recalled a line from the pamphlet which summed up my feelings quite accurately:

_The druggist—unconscious minister of celestial pleasures!—_

I almost skipped.

The carriage driver returned me to the docks and I re-boarded the steamer with my bottle nestled safely in my breast pocket.

For the remainder of the journey I experimented with the bottle's contents and it was like I was seeing with new eyes. Everything in my cabin was the same, but it all appeared infinitely more interesting. The sunlight, which entered the room through the little porthole window, glinted off of every surface as if it was blasted through a prism. The soft scurrying feet of a mouse echoed loudly around the room. Instead of being distracting as my heightened senses should have been, quite the opposite occurred. I felt as though my brain was finally functioning as it was meant to. My thoughts came in an orderly fashion and new ideas came to me so quickly it was all I could do to scribble them down fast enough. I found sleep unnecessary and food barely desirable. I suddenly couldn't wait to arrive in New Orleans because once there, I could bring my ideas to fruition. With such boundless energy now at my disposal, I could remake my life and regain my lost prestige. My new business plan in hand, I marched down to my father's cabin to present my ideas.

Just as I reached the door to his cabin, my father emerged. "Oh good, there you are Edward. We are just about to dock at Natchez and we'll be getting off there."

"Why, I thought we were continuing on to New Orleans?" I questioned.

"A few of the gentlemen on board that I have been associating with have a friend here with a riverboat and they have invited us to go along with them. We're not far from New Orleans now. We can head there over land in a few days time," he replied.

"But I have these business plans I'd like to discuss with you, Sir," I sputtered.

"Tut, tut, boy, there will be plenty of time for business when we get to the city."

Disappointment flooded through me but I turned on my heel and walked back to my cabin. I didn't have many belongings with me but what I did I threw back into my valise. I put on my finest frock coat and bemoaned the state of my linen shirt. For the umpteenth time I regretted my decision to not bring my manservant with me as I knew not how to launder my own clothes. I had been paying one of the kitchen women who worked on the steamer to wash and starch my shirts and pants but she was unable to perform this duty with any amount of skill. Thus, I felt great dismay over the state of my appearance when I consulted the mirror one last time before heading out the door.

I met my father on the dock and together we walked the short distance to where the private riverboats were tied up. Several other gentlemen I recognized from the steamer were gathered in front of one of the vessels and my father indicated that it was our destination. After an exchange of pleasantries with the other gentlemen, we all boarded the riverboat and were shown to the boardroom by a smartly dressed, older black man. The room was finely furnished and a bar with a brick façade ran across the back wall. In the center of the room was a large, circular, cherry wood table at which sat two gentlemen, one of whom had a red headed woman draped across his lap. The woman was no lady, as she wore nothing but a short chemise, a corset and a red silk dressing gown. The man on whom she was perched had long, light brown hair that was tied back. His finely made suit was a rich shade of blue, very close to the color of his eyes. A ring adorned each of his fingers and a sparkly brooch shown brilliantly from a bit of lace at his throat. He was what I would call a dandy, probably nouveau riche and hopefully, lousy at poker. The man seated to his right was much less richly dressed. His suit was dark and he wore no jewelry. His long, black hair hung loose and his face betrayed his obvious boredom.

"Gentlemen, how nice of you to come this evening. For those of you who don't know me, I am James LaFontaine and this is my associate, Laurent Le Clair. Please have a seat." He turned then and addressed the woman on his lap. "Victoria, would you be a doll and get these gentlemen some refreshments?"

I took the seat directly opposite James while my father sat to my left. The other three gentlemen filled in the remaining seats. Victoria presented us each with a glass of whiskey and a cigar. After everyone was settled in, James commenced dealing the first hand. The conversation flowed easily and Victoria kept the whiskey in our glasses full, while making her rounds gracing the laps of each gentleman in turn.

The night wore on and soon it was just James, Laurent and I still engaged in the game. James was becoming increasingly disgruntled and very, very drunk. Several times, Laurent leaned over to whisper in James's ear. Their body language suggested to me that they were very _familiar_ with each other. Also suspect was the interaction between Victoria and Laurent. They seemed to regard each other with a degree of disdain, which hinted at jealousy. Laurent folded quickly most hands, but James stubbornly insisted on challenging me time and again. His wagers became more and more outlandish until finally at the end of the last hand, he slammed down his glass and yelled, "Masen, I do believe you are cheating me on my own boat! How dare you, Sir!"

The silence in the room was palpable, the shock shown on the faces of the gentlemen around us except for my father, who simply grinned. It wasn't the first time I had been put in this position. My poker game was unnaturally good and if I didn't know myself, I'd think I was a cheat too. The only response I gave James was to cock my brow and grin lazily back at him. Any other man would have responded to an accusation of cheating by challenging the accuser to a fight, the reaction James was clearly expecting. However, I seldom desired to engage in physical altercations. I had no wish to harm James, but I was going to hold him accountable for the five thousand dollars I had won from him-quite fairly I might add.

For almost a whole minute, neither of us made a move. We simply sat and stared, each waiting for the other to break the silence. Eventually, I heard James let out a great sigh and he dropped his eyes from mine to study his whiskey glass. His lips puckered and his fingers caressed the lip of the glass. He appeared to be deep in thought before suddenly beginning again to speak, this time in a much softer voice.

"Alright, Masen, I accept that I now owe you five thousand dollars, but I propose we play one more hand." Laurent made as if to speak but James silenced him with a wave of his hand. "If you win, I will pay you the five thousand dollars, plus I will hand over the deed to my plantation. If I win, I keep my five thousand dollars and you will hand over five thousand more."

Every eye in the room shifted from James to me. It was so quiet I wondered if anyone was even breathing, so anxious were they to hear my response. I sat back in my chair, propped my right foot up on my left knee and slowly caressed my bottom lip with my thumb as if carefully deliberating.

"If that's what you would like James, I'm sure I could handle one more round. However, if you'll excuse me just a moment, I do need to go take a piss first." Without waiting for a response, I stood up and exited the room. I strolled slowly down to the rear of the ship, took a piss off the back of the boat, fished my bottle out of my breast pocket, and swallowed the remnants before pitching the now empty bottle in the river. If ever there was a time for clear thinking, it was then. Ten thousand dollars was quite a sum of money and if I were to lose this last hand, it would put a rather large dent in my available funds. It certainly wouldn't break me as I had many assets that I could liquidate and a lot of invested money, but those were things not at my immediate disposal.

When I returned to the boardroom, I found that my whiskey glass had again been refilled and a fresh cigar sat at my place. After I sat down, Victoria made her way over to me and lowered herself onto the arm of my chair, settling her legs onto my lap. I gave her a quizzical expression, which she returned with a broad, seductive smile. She hadn't paid me much mind before this and I wondered what ulterior motives she had. Laurent dealt the hand and I kept my cards close to my chest, hopefully away from Victoria's prying eyes. It wasn't only her eyes that were prying and as the game went on her hands began to wander across my chest and inside my coat. The farther down her hands traveled, the tenser I became as it had been some time since I'd had the opportunity for female companionship. Her large breasts were barely contained by her corset, her pink nipples just peeking out above it. As her hand continued its trip down south, she leaned further into me, and I could hardly conceal my state. I broke out into a sweat and my breathing became labored. My mind was still in the game but my body was trying desperately to get me to give in to my baser emotions. Just before we were about to lay our cards down for the last time, her hand grasped my cock through my pants and gave it a quick stroke. It was all I could do to not moan out loud. Whatever Victoria was trying to achieve, I still wasn't letting James win this hand. I laid my cards out at the same time that James did and once again silence filled the room. James's eyes widened and as they flitted back and forth between my hand and his, he seemed to be willing them to show a different outcome.

"That's my boy!" My father's booming voice broke the silence as he slapped me on the back and guffawed loudly.

James slowly stood up and approached my side of the table. "If you'll follow me to my study Masen, I'll get the deed and the money for you," he announced in a defeated tone.

I arose and followed him out of the door. I felt tense, not sure if he would try something once we were out of the room and away from witnesses. Visions of him attempting to knock me out and throw me in the river filled my mind. Thankfully, we made it to his study without mishap and he invited me to sit down in the chair in front of his massive oak desk. He immediately went behind the desk and began shuffling through drawers and shifting his papers. This went on for several minutes and my degree of anxiousness rose. I began to feel poorly, my vision blurred and my limbs became less cooperative. I spoke not a word, afraid to appear weak in front of him. I was beginning to suspect that I had either ingested far too much opium, or that I threw down entirely too many glasses of whiskey on top of it.

Finally, James came around the side of the desk with the deed in his hand and a small chest. He sat the chest on the desk and flipped open the lid before removing stacks of paper money. He looked at it wistfully before returning his gaze to me. He looked me up and down as though sizing me up, and then cocked his head and smiled brilliantly at me. To say I was surprised by his change in demeanor would be an understatement. He came a few steps towards me until his legs hit my knees and then he bent over and grabbed the arms of the chair I was occupying. He brought his face right down to mine and for a split second, I thought he meant to kiss me, but instead he looked straight into my eyes.

"Masen, I believe we could work something out, you know, a mutually beneficial relationship which would allow me to keep my land." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but with a hint of malice. He trailed his nose across my cheek bone so that he was now speaking right into my ear. "You see, my father would be devastated if I lost Evergreen. He might never forgive me. He has these expectations for me and would be most dismayed if he were to be disappointed in them." As he finished speaking, he lowered his head further until he hit the crook of my neck. I felt his hands move from the arm of the chair to my knees before very slowly sliding up my thighs. I was now cursing both the opium and whiskey, which had left me in such a state that my arms and legs no longer obeyed my commands. My mind was so frazzled I could barely understand what was occurring.

James sank slowly to his knees in front of me, his face never leaving the crook of my neck until he reached the floor. His hands tugged the waistband of my pants, shifting me forward on the chair. James popped the button and removed my only half hard cock; apparently he was confused as well. I felt panic well up inside me, but it seemed as though I was in one of those nightmares where you try to scream and scream but no sound ever leaves your throat. He dipped his head and I felt myself engulfed in the warmth of his mouth, a sensation that was at once pleasurable and painful. My jaw dropped open and I heard a moaning sound fill the room. Was that me? I could no longer tell. My mind seemed completely divorced from my body.

"Edward! Edward!" The sound of pounding filled the air. "Edward, are you alright? I'm ready to head over to the inn for the night. Are you coming?" James and I both looked towards the door and saw that it was vibrating with the force of the pounding my father was giving it. I saw his eyes go wide as my father next tried twisting the handle. James must have locked it, meaning he already had this seduction scheme planned out before we entered this room. I saw him look back up to me, my cock still in his mouth. His eyes narrowed and his face contorted into a grimace. My body finally responded, whether it was an instinctual urge to save my cock or the sudden loud interruption from my father that had served to clear my head, I quickly reached my hand down the side of the chair to my riding boot in which I had secreted my knife. I had it to his throat before he could act on whatever diabolical scheme had entered his mind.

"Bite down and it's the last fucking thing you'll do in this life!"

I was brought back to the present by a loud inhale from Jasper. I snapped my head up and saw him gazing back towards the ballroom.

"That's the girl, Edward. That's the girl I want."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: checks bank account nope…still poor….must mean I don't own the Twilight Saga**

**checks bed nope….still no Rob in it…FML!**

**A/N**

**Remember how I warned you in Chap 1 that this would deal with race relations? Well you're going to find out why in this chapter. BTW this is NEVER meant to be offensive. This stuff really happened… "You can Google it"**

**PS-if you already knew what kind of ball they were at; award yourself 50 extra credit points in the game of life.**

**Links to the music mentioned are on my profile.**

**Note: Edited and reposted 6/9/10 with the assistance of Binky, shelle87, CapriciousC**

"_That's the girl, Edward. That's the girl I want."_

Jasper bolted back into the ballroom and I followed fast on his heels. He stopped just short of the dance floor and stood stiffly. I traced his gaze to the entranceway where I beheld three women. The one in the middle was obviously older than the two who held her arms. All three were genuine beauties; they carried themselves with poise and grace as they made their way into the ballroom.

"Jasper, I thought this ball was just for colored girls?"

I heard no answer so I shifted my eyes from the girls and returned them to Jasper, who hadn't moved a muscle. I smacked him lightly on the chest and after a few moments he finally answered me.

"They are, Edward. I mean it is, the ball that is," he stuttered out.

"I don't understand; they look like white women to me, Jasper."

Jasper shook his head slowly before responding, "They call it passé blanc here. To a northerner like yourself, they would pass for white women, but by definition, they are not." He continued on, "You see the lady in the middle? That's Renée LaPierre, Charles Swan's woman, and she is a quadroon. The girls on either side of her are Isabella and Alice, I believe, although I haven't seen them since they were little."

I looked at him quizzically, my confused expression prompting him to explain further. "I'm sorry Edward; I forget that this is probably all so foreign to you. Renée is called a quadroon because she is of one quarter African descent. She is Charles Swan's placeé, meaning all of her children are octoroons."

"Placeé? Jasper, you're going to have to break it down a little further for me."

"This whole system is called plaçage. It's a leftover custom from when first the French and then the Spanish controlled Louisiana. Even before that, it had been practiced on the islands south of here. I think it came about because of the shortage of white women when the settlers first arrived, but it continues on here even though finding a wife is no longer the issue it once was."

"But these girls are all free aren't they? They aren't forced into this, right?"

"No, they aren't forced really. They could enter a legitimate marriage with one of their own and a lot of them do. Mostly they follow their mothers. If their mother is a placeé, they seem more likely to enter this lifestyle. Charles Swan is my father's partner at the firm. I always thought he would want his girls to be married but I've heard Renée can be very _persuasive_. Perhaps this is her doing."

Jasper grew silent and went back to watching the LaPierre girls. I watched them as they joined a group of girls off to the side of the dance floor. "Which one is Alice and which one is Isabella?" I inquired.

"Alice is the shorter one, the one that's gesturing with her hands as she speaks."

She was indeed gesturing, almost wildly so. She kept pointing at her dress which was identical to Isabella's, except in color. They must have been discussing fashion or some such female thing. "So it's Alice that you're interested in then? Won't that make things a little awkward at your office?" I asked, chuckling.

Jasper thought hard for a moment, pursing his lips and looking down at the floor before replying, "I suppose so, though maybe it would be alright. At least Mr. Swan will know she'll be well looked after."

"Well, are you going to ask her to dance or are you going to wait and let some other man have her?"

Jasper's face took on a determined expression before he looked back to me. "Of course Edward, you're quite right. If you'll excuse me, I have a lady to woo." He turned on his heel, smoothed down the front of his coat, ran his fingers through his curly blonde locks and marched straight towards the LaPierre girls. He approached Renée first and I assume, since I was out of hearing distance, that he introduced himself. Both girls looked up at him and smiled; each of them barely reaching shoulder height on Jasper. Alice immediately stepped forward, almost as if she knew he would be asking for her. With an approving nod from Renée, he took her hand and led her out to the dance floor. The waltz was a slow one so I was able to study them as they moved amongst the other dancers. Jasper was smiling down at Alice, seemingly entranced while she continued speaking in her rather effervescent manner. Renée and Isabella also watched them for quite awhile. Renée was obviously pleased, while Isabella had a much more pensive expression. She began worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and rubbing her white gloved fingers together. I was studying her so intently that I did not hear my father's approach until he was whispering in my ear.

"Are you going to let Major Whitlock have all the fun? Why haven't you found a pretty girl to dance with?"

"I told you father, I don't want to do this."

"That's ridiculous, Edward. I'm not asking you to fall on your sword; I just want you to dance."

"But that's not all you want. Every time I give a little, you take advantage and get me to do what _you_ want. Just like what happened in Chicago and we _know_ how well that turned out," I replied through my teeth.

Mr. Whitlock arrived before my father could answer. "Masen, not out on the dance floor yet?" he inquired while handing my father another whiskey.

"No sir, but as you can see, your son has found a lady of interest," I said as I pointed out the pair.

"Hmmm, that looks like Charlie's daughter. Things could get rather interesting at my office." He pondered that fact for a moment before skipping to another subject. "Do you speak French, Masen?"

"Not as well as I should, Sir."

"What kind of education are you boys getting up North? Why, Jasper speaks French and Spanish, as well as Latin and Greek!" he exclaimed.

"Edward does well enough. If he is lacking in language it's my fault. I didn't send him off to school until he was sixteen. Before that I always had governesses for him. Unfortunately, he was a very _precocious_ child. I believe he spent more time studying _anatomy_ than any other subject," my father answered while slapping me on the back. Mr. Whitlock and my father exchanged knowing grins which soon turned to guffaws. I couldn't help but laugh too as it was very true.

"Father, if you really wanted me to learn, you should have brought less alluring females into our home. How could you possibly expect me to focus on French verbs when the language of love was being uttered by such delectable lips?"

We looked at each other as we recalled who those lips belonged to and spoke simultaneously, "Miss Stanley!"

"Edward, I could not possibly open my home to an ugly, old maid or other such _respectable_ female and I certainly wasn't going to hire some poor boy just out of college. I hesitate to think what kind of debauchery you would have introduced them to."

"But I only would have been able to show him what I had learned from my father," I said, turning the conversation serious again.

"Exactly what I was concerned about. You would have turned them into pleasure seekers, whore house customers, bar room brawlers and general lay-abouts. Don't think I didn't hear about what you managed to get some of those boarding school boys to do. Mr. Banner, the headmaster, kept me filled in on your various nefarious activities."

"That doesn't surprise me. He was usually already present at the establishments I frequented," I replied smugly.

"So, Masen, you're a great seducer of women just like your father? I hope you picked up _some_ French from the infamous Miss Stanley; that's all most of these girls speak," Mr. Whitlock added glibly.

"Aye, he is that, Mr. Whitlock," my father answered for me. "I'm sure he'll do fine with the ladies, no matter what language they're speaking."

"What are you waiting for then? Get yourself out there. Alice has a sister doesn't she? Have Jasper help you if you must," Mr. Whitlock proclaimed.

I looked at them and decided that neither one of them was going to give up on this. "Fine, I'll ask a girl to dance. Would that please you both? Nothing will come of it, Father. I'm telling you, I will not keep some woman just to make you happy and cater to this ridiculous whim of yours!" With that being said, I turned and surveyed the room, my eyes searching for the girl I would choose as my partner. I saw Jasper and Alice had left the dance floor and were back chatting with Renée and Isabella. They were holding hands. I could see Jasper had made up his mind about things.

For reasons already mentioned, my French was sub par so I decided that I would indeed join Jasper in case I needed assistance. I was soon by his side and I inquired of him politely, "Major Whitlock, would you do me the honor of introducing me to these ladies?"

"Of course. Madam LaPierre, this is Monsieur Edward Masen. He has recently arrived from Chicago and taken ownership of the Evergreen plantation." Renée extended her hand and I gently clasped it and kissed it. Jasper continued the introductions, "Mademoiselles Isabella and Alice, this is my friend, Monsieur Edward Masen."

Isabella was closer to me and thereby proffered her hand first. I took it and kissed it softly, but made the mistake of looking up at her as I did so. I was nearly thrown off kilter by the look in her dark brown eyes. The lightest smattering of face paint decorated them and accentuated her lashes, which were thick and black. Curling tendrils of her heavy black hair cascaded down and around her heart shaped face, having escaped from her elaborate coiffure. Her lips, the bottom just slightly fuller than the top, trembled a bit as she gasped her reply. "Enchanté, Monsieur Masen."

From the moment the words left her mouth I could barely breathe. Suddenly, my mind was thrust back to my library in Chicago where I had first met Miss Stanley, my first juvenile seduction. Well, seduction may not be the correct term; it was clearly not the girl's first go-round. But now that I had heard those same words from Isabella, whose accent was genuine and not learned in a classroom, Miss Stanley's memory lost its appeal.

"Enchantée, Mademoiselle," I managed to utter, a beat too late for she had no doubt noticed how flustered I had become. I quickly turned to Alice and repeated the greeting. Alice looked from me to Isabella before breaking into a knowing grin.

"Enchanté, Mr. Masen," Alice replied before turning back to Jasper, giggling lightly and tugging him back out to the dance floor. I was alone and I had no idea if the situation called for a certain protocol or not. Deciding that they would have to forgive my ignorance of such matters, I asked Renée if I might have a dance with Isabella. She nodded in the affirmative before looking to Isabella for her answer. "Yes, Monsieur, I would be pleased to share a dance with you." Her words came slowly, in an even, measured tone, as if she was trying hard not to make a mistake.

"You speak English well, Isabella. I've been told that's a rarity here. Good thing too; my French is a little rusty," I said while smiling encouragingly at her. She merely nodded then held out her hand for me to lead her out to the dance floor.

The small orchestra was playing Vivaldi, Le Quattro Stagioni. They played the Summer portion, quite fitting as we were in New Orleans where storms occurred nearly every afternoon and the heat and humidity were often stifling. I wrapped my arm around Isabella's waist and was momentarily shocked by the warmth and comfort that literally radiated off of her body, despite her obvious nervousness. She raised her other hand to my shoulder but remained looking down. I felt a tremble run through her body before she at last lifted her head. She was worrying her lip with her teeth again and looking very unsure of herself.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur. I'm not a very good dancer," she said in a soft voice.

"Don't concern yourself about it. Dancing happens to be an activity in which I excel. You do know the basic waltz steps, don't you?"

"Yes, but I've only done it a few times." She glanced over my shoulder at the dancers before leaning in to whisper, "This is only my second ball."

I pulled her even closer, hoping to assuage her discomfort and slowly began the waltz before continuing the conversation. "I would have thought a girl as pretty as you would have an endless supply of dance partners."

"You flatter me sir. Most men here are not interested in me."

I chuckled a bit before replying, "I think you are mistaken, Isabella. Any man would be proud to have you on his arm. Not only are you very pretty, you are obviously well educated, a quality distinctly lacking in most women." I leaned in then, right above her ear so that my breath tickled her skin and whispered, "The blush on your cheeks is radiant; the smell of your skin…," I furtively ran my nose down the curve of her neck, "…intoxicating. Honeysuckle, that's what you smell like. I wonder if I suckled your skin, would it be sweet like honey?"

Isabella's feet faltered and if I had not been sure in my grip, she would have no doubt dropped to the floor. I silently cursed my impudent tongue for forming the words before my hazy brain could stop it. I had to remind myself that this lovely girl in my arms was no Chicago showgirl, but a sweet, virginal flower not meant for me to pick. It would do no good to any of us for me to lead her on, no matter what my body was telling me. And for once, I was very happy that females wore so many layers and those ridiculous crinoline hoops, otherwise Isabella would have quickly realized just how attractive I found her.

As if I needed another reminder to steal myself against her charms, we whirled past my father, who looked on us with a smug smirk of satisfaction. Then the bastard _winked_ at me!

The orchestra wrapped up the Vivaldi piece and relaxed as a solo piano player took the spotlight. He began a song that I didn't recognize, so I bent down and asked Isabella if she knew it.

"It's Gottschalk. He's a Creole as well, but not a member of the Gens de Couleur Libre. He has half siblings that are members though. He's very popular in Europe and lives there most of the time, but he comes back here occasionally."

"I should find the sheet music for this song; it's fantastic."

"Do you play?" Isabella asked.

"I do. Do you play?"

"Yes, but not exceptionally. I like this piece as well. Maybe I could induce you to join me at the piano sometime? It sounds even better with multiple players," she asked coyly.

I simply smiled at her, realizing that as much as I enjoyed her company, I had to put a stop to this silly game between my father and me before her feelings were hurt. When the song ended, I twirled her back towards her mother.

"Isabella, thank you very much for the dances, but I must take my leave of you now."

"Merci," she replied but her face fell and she appeared crestfallen. I bowed slightly towards her and her mother and left without another word. I secreted myself in an alcove near the balcony, propped my foot up behind me on the wall and lit a cheroot. From this vantage point, I could watch Isabella surreptitiously. She stood next to her mother where I left her but her eyes stayed glued to the floor. Renée was gesturing towards her and the look on her face signaled that she was scolding Isabella. I hoped that she didn't think that Isabella had behaved inappropriately in any way or that my sudden disappearance was her fault. Isabella's hands moved up to her face and she spun, exiting the ballroom quickly. The thought that I had made her cry or caused her discomfort bothered me immensely. My body jerked forward as I had a sudden urge to follow her and console her. Odd, that was something I had never desired to do before. I stopped myself, convincing my body and mind that it was much better for her in the long run if I left her alone. Alice must have also seen her sister's hasty departure, for she was through the entranceway and after Isabella at a speed one would think impossible to accomplish in a ball gown and slippers. Jasper stood by the dance floor, suddenly alone and looking mystified. He caught sight of me and sauntered over.

"Why do I think this is your fault?" he questioned.

I sighed heavily before taking another drag off my cheroot. "I don't know, Jasper. I danced with her twice and returned her to her mother. Am I missing something? What would make her run out of here in tears?" Jasper just shrugged and rolled his eyes, a lazy grin breaking out on his face. Jasper's moods were positively infectious and so I couldn't help but grin back at him. Our faces fell quickly when we spied the girls returning to the room, one on either side of a gentleman both Jasper and I knew.

"Is that LaFontaine?" Jasper asked, immediately beginning to walk towards the entranceway.

"I believe you are correct," I responded as I followed him.

"We have to get the girls away from him," he spoke over his shoulder. I didn't know why Jasper was so wary of James but now was not the time to find out.

"I couldn't agree more," I muttered.

James saw us approaching and smiled widely. "Good evening, gentlemen, so nice to see you again, Masen. I see you've made the acquaintance of Major Whitlock."

I dismissed his pleasantries as I was in no mood to chat, not with his arms wrapped around both LaPierre girls. "James, don't you have a plantation to oversee? I seem to recall leaving one in your care."

"Don't concern yourself about that, Masen, Laurent is there. He has things under control," he replied, still smiling.

"Laurent is not in my employ, _you_ are. I expect you to be on site, managing the property in my absence or you can find some other means of supporting yourself," I said snidely.

"Alice, would you accompany me to the refreshment table," Jasper asked. Alice looked flustered but nodded her head and dropped James's arm.

"Isabella? May I have another dance?" I found myself asking.

"My apologies, Monsieur Masen," Isabella said cuttingly, "I've promised Monsieur LaFontaine this dance."

With that, the pair brushed past me and I was left standing alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the twilight saga or these characters…however, this is my twisted little story line and stealing sucks ass in general, stealing fanfic authors story lines is pathetic…don't do it.**

**Note: Edited and reposted 6/9/10 with the assistance of Binky, MaggieCullen, Emmettgirl**

"Bella! Bella!"

Through the fog of sleep, I could hear Alice bouncing up the stairs and heading towards our bedroom door. I groaned in aggravation, removed the book from my chest, and prepared to rise from the window seat I had been snuggled in for hours. I swept my hands over my face and discovered my left cheek was sweaty from resting on the warm windowpane. My thick hair was frizzy from the constant humidity and my dressing gown clung to my clammy limbs.

"Bella!" She burst through the door and went straight to the armoire.

"Alice, we have hours yet until the ball starts. Don't make me get ready yet," I whined. She didn't answer immediately as piles of undergarments, stockings and various accessories came flying out of the armoire and onto my bed. When she finally emerged she was pouting.

"Come on, Bella, it'll take an hour just to do your hair; you have so much of it. Besides, we're going to wear those new dresses that Jacob sent us. Aren't you excited?"

I sighed. "Of course I am, Alice. Knowing that Jacob made them himself, makes them all the more special. I'm just nervous, especially after what happened last time. I don't want to disappoint Maman again."

"Don't worry about that, Bella. It _will_ be different this time. Last time was just practice. Tonight we'll meet them. I've seen it."

"You've been spending too much time with Tante Angélique, I think. Have you been calling on Papa Legba and reading the tea leaves again?" I asked with a laugh.

"Hush, Bella, you don't want to upset him," she answered, half seriously.

"Are you styling yourself the next Marie Laveaux? Will you be holding court with Tante Angélique in the St. Louis cemetery at midnight? New Orleans' next great voodooiennes?"

"Fine, make fun, but just you wait and see. I'm telling you, chère, tonight is the night and I want us to look perfect for our gentlemen, so come here and let me get started on your hair."

I seated myself at the vanity and got comfortable, knowing that Alice would want to attempt some intricate style she'd seen in the latest French magazines. My brother, Jacob, always sent them along with the trunks full of new gowns, dainty satin slippers, and fine lace with which to decorate our under things. Jacob was in France and had been for five years now. He was apprenticed to an Englishman named Charles Worth, who designed and made clothes for the ladies of the French court. His last letter was brimming with excitement as they were beginning a new endeavor: designing clothes and putting them into a collection. The ladies would pick from the collection instead of the traditional way in which the ladies commissioned gowns one at a time. Jacob said they were calling it "haute couture" and that other dressmakers were sure to follow their lead. Alice was very excited about it, as she was sure it would revolutionize ladies fashion. Of course, the other girls here were jealous that Alice and I were dressed in the same fancy gowns that Empress Eugénie and the ladies of the French court wore.

While Alice pulled, tugged, and pinned my hair, I wondered if I would ever see my brother again in this life. Since he had been living in France for so long, I doubted he would ever want to return to America. In France, he was truly free. He could sit next to a white man at the opera, break bread with him at any restaurant, and attend the same institutions of higher learning. In short, there was nothing here for him anymore but the subtle humiliation we endure every day. At least our lives were better than the slaves; our existence and that of the white folks may not be on a parallel plane, but we were not so lowly as to be owned by another person. We could move about fairly freely so long as we always carried our papers on our person. We could own property, maintain our own businesses, even leave the country if we wished. As long as we didn't attempt to infiltrate the white man's world, we could do pretty much as we pleased and they let us be.

My status as a free black woman was in many ways beneficial. I had more options open to me than a white woman. I was highly educated and able to choose whom I wished to marry, as long as they were gens de couleur libre. That is, if I wanted to marry at all. And that was how things stood; did I want to marry a man equal to me in status or did I want to take a white lover and remain unwed?

My maman, Renée, was raised to be and remained to this day, ambivalent about marriage. Like her maman before her, she liked the freedom accorded to her by becoming a placeé. We had our own cottage, which was finely furnished and outfitted by my father, Charles. He saw to it that every one of her desires were fulfilled. Nothing was too good for Renée and the three of us children.

Our fine education came by way of the Church, and like many young, wealthy men, both white and black; my brother was sent for his European tour when he came of age. I wished I had been born a boy so that I could have gone, too. I was always Jacob's pet and I had followed him everywhere. Never did he send me away, even when his friends made fun of him for allowing his little sister to tag along. Alice was different, though. She almost never joined us in our childish games. The first chance she got she'd be down the street at Tante Angélique's cottage. Tante Angélique frightened me a bit. She was my maman's much older sister and had no children of her own. She was the woman that every one would go to if they had a special prayer, an urgent desire, or a baby on the way. Alice became her protégé from an early age, a relationship that my maman intensely disliked and at first, tried to prevent. Alice, however, thwarted her every attempt and eventually Maman gave in.

It seemed that Alice was the only one of us who ever got Maman to bend to their will. Never was I able to change her mind and Charles rarely ever tried. Jacob always tried to please her as well. It was Renée who was instrumental in getting him to stay in France. She wanted better for her son, and she knew that a better life was available to him there. For purely selfish reasons, that particular decision of hers angered me. I missed having him as my constant companion, my playmate and protector. But even from across the ocean, I always felt he was looking out for me. His letters filled me with hope for him because he seemed to have found such a happy, fulfilling life there. Accompanying his letters were the beautiful gowns, which were created by his own hand, as well as books, and magazines, which would otherwise be unavailable or difficult for us to obtain in America. He even told us tales of intrigue from the French court and silly anecdotes about the great ladies of Europe who frequented the House of Worth.

Our relationship with our white father was different than many of the families around us. Charles was truly a father to all three of us, and I knew he loved us deeply. He was much older than Renée, and had no separate white family to care for. His white wife had died many years before he met our maman and he had no living children by her. When he passed on, Alice and I would actually be able to inherit his entire estate as he had no living white relatives to contest it and Jacob was set to remain in France. Because of this, I really had no need to marry and neither did Alice. We would have enough income to live well for the rest of our lives as well as a plantation to reside on if we so wished. The idea of never being beholden to a man appealed to me, but I could also see that it might lead to a lonely existence in the future.

Charles lived mostly with us at the cottage, but he did maintain a separate residence in another part of the Vieux Carré, as was customary. He rarely visited his plantation any more because he was quickly growing into an old man. He did, however, maintain a presence at his law firm and claimed he would continue to do so until his dying day. It saddened me to realize that my father was growing older; his moustache and beard were now snow white, his spectacles rarely left his face, and he never went out without his walking stick. I asked him once if he ever regretted not remarrying, but he simply shook his head and said that he would never find a wife as good as Renée and that if there was any regret at all it was that he couldn't marry her and give us all his name officially.

Occasionally, Charles would ask Alice and me what our future plans were and whether any young men had caught our eye. Alice would just giggle and shake her head, but the question always troubled me. None of the boys around us excited me. They all seemed to remain the silly boys that Jacob and I had played with as children, never changing, never proving to be the least bit fascinating to me. When neither of us showed any interest in marriage, Renée began to push us towards attending the quadroon balls but I couldn't find it within myself to want to take that route either. It was only when Alice took it into her head to attend the balls that I really began to consider it. Of course, the final factor was Michel Newton, a childhood playmate of Jacob and me.

Michel Newton came calling several times a week for three weeks. I was baffled by his sudden romantic interest in me and tried my best not to encourage his advances. He couldn't seem to realize that I had no interest in him; although, I thought I was making it increasingly clear. Finally, I refused to come down to the parlor when he called, leaving Alice to make excuses for my behavior. I thought he understood when he didn't come back for several weeks, but one day he randomly showed up on my doorstep again. That was the day that I agreed to go with Alice to the next ball. Once a lady of color attended a quadroon ball, it was a clear sign that she was not contemplating matrimony.

I didn't know what I expected to find at the quadroon balls. I was more running away from something than running to it. The first ball Alice and I attended was a disaster for me. Renée had us trained in dance and proper etiquette off and on since we were children, but I had hardly ever paid much attention. I was not naturally graceful like Alice, nor was I skilled in coquettish flirting or polite conversation. My nose was perpetually in a book or my mind was lost in daydreams. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I nervously accepted a dance with the first young man to offer, then promptly tripped over my own feet and ended up face down on the dance floor. Alice spent all week teasing me and telling me she was surprised that I didn't get more offers since every man on that side of the ballroom had got an eyeful of my pantaloons and stockings. Ridiculous hoop skirts, once compressed down in the front, they pop up in the back and leave you on display for everyone to see. We left almost immediately and I swore I would never leave the cottage again but there I was, letting Alice dress me up like a peacock on parade again.

"Alright Bella, your hair is finished. Let me get Katie in here to help me with your gown," Alice said while flying back out of the bedroom door.

Katie had been with us since Charles met Maman. She had been a house slave on Charles' plantation and when he took Maman into keeping, he brought Katie down river to our cottage in New Orleans. She fulfilled many roles for us; nanny, surrogate mother, housekeeper, and confidante. As children, she kept us all in line and could make us behave with just one look. There was electricity in her stare and it seemed she could stop us dead in our tracks. Katie had fiery red hair and light brown eyes but her skin was like milk chocolate. She was obviously mixed, but claimed no one as her father. Due to her loyalty and likeness to Charles, we all firmly believed her to be his half sister. She and Renée were usually of one mind and together kept the household and us children in a state of compliance.

Alice and Katie soon returned and I left the vanity to stand in the middle of the room. I shed my dressing gown and changed into a fresh chemise and pantaloons. On went my silk stockings and my tiny satin slippers. These had to be put on first because once you were in your corset and hoop; there was no way to reach your own feet. Alice and Katie both cinched me into my corset and then assisted me while I stepped into the crinoline hoop frame. Next, I held up my arms and they shimmied a heavy petticoat over my head and worked it down over the hoop. The petticoat assured that the bones of the hoop would not show through the delicate material of the actual gown. I kept my arms raised as they brought the skirt part of the gown over my head as well. When that was in place, I slipped on the top and Katie hooked it to the skirt. The gown was a dark orange, almost red. It had tiny little sleeves but left my shoulders, upper back, and the top of my bosom bare. I touched the intricate details on the skirt and visualized Jacob sewing them by hand after picking the colors that would best show off my pale skin and dark hair.

Alice dusted me with a fine powder, rimmed my eyes with her kohl pencil and lightly painted my lips before declaring me done and asking Katie to assist her with her hair and makeup. I settled onto the bed and prepared for a long wait. Alice and Katie prattled on while they worked; discussing all the gossip and wondering who else might show up to the ball.

"I hear Mr. Whitlock's son is home from Texas, maybe he'll be going tonight?" Katie wondered.

I could see Alice looking at me from the vanity mirror. "Do you remember him, Bella? He came to the cottage once when Mr. Whitlock urgently needed father to assist him with a case. He was barely out of short pants then; the boy with the curly blonde hair?" Alice asked.

"I remember he blushed scarlet when he saw you, Alice," I giggled out.

"I wonder what he looks like now? Father says he's been in the Army for years. I just can't imagine that sweet little boy out fighting Indians and commanding soldiers. He was just so…gangly and awkward!" Alice exclaimed as she scrunched up her shoulders and shook her head in disbelief.

When Alice's hair and makeup were done to her satisfaction, Katie and I helped her with her underclothes and gown in the same manner in which they had helped me. Alice's gown was identical to mine in every detail except for color. Jacob had chosen baby pink for hers and it looked incredible on her tiny figure. Alice had dark brown eyes and pale, white skin like I did, but her hair was jet black, darker than mine, but also much thinner and finer; falling in soft ringlets around her face. She had been born early, slightly less than a year after I was born, and so had always been tiny. At first, they thought her too small to survive, but Tante Angélique had watched over her night and day, thus securing the bond between them, which had lasted into adulthood.

Katie went down the hall to help Maman, leaving Alice and I to scrounge up a small meal for ourselves. I was too nervous to eat much and the tightness of my corset didn't allow for a large meal, anyway.

When Maman came downstairs, she looked us over and helped us into our spotless white gloves and thin, black capes. Tyler, our driver, brought the carriage out and gave each of us a hand up onto the seats. Our cottage on the Rue St. Anne was really only a short distance from the ballroom and we arrived within several minutes of leaving home. Upon entering the ballroom, I could see the dance floor was already full and there were many other ladies gathered about to gossip and compare gowns. I could sense the change in the air as soon as we were noticed. Some of the girls began snickering and pointing towards me, no doubt wondering when I would embarrass myself again. I felt Alice squeeze my hand as a gesture of reassurance, but my maman had time for no such thing. She marched us straight towards the tittering ladies with her haughty head held high. Seeing her resolve, Alice and I tried our best to do the same. Of course, the girls were easily distracted by our new gowns and began asking about them almost immediately. Alice excitedly told them Jacob's news and how our gowns exemplified this new movement in the fashion world. Though I was thankful that this line of questioning was ever so much more comfortable than the teasing would have been, I was still bored and looking about. Because of this, I was the first to spot the tall, handsome, blonde haired man who was headed in our direction.

"Alice, is that Major Whitlock, do you think?"

I grabbed Alice's arm and jerked my chin towards him. I heard her sudden intake of breath, which was followed by a small squeak.

"That's him, Bella. That's who I've been waiting for," was Alice's dazed reply.

It didn't take him long to reach us, which was good since it was all I could do to keep Alice still. If I hadn't been holding her arm in a vice grip, she probably would have jumped on him. As was proper, he spoke to Maman first, introducing himself and inquiring as to our names. Major Whitlock only had eyes for Alice, though, and as soon as he could manage, he came closer to us. Alice stepped forward and he grasped her hand before looking to Maman for final approval. After she had nodded, they took off to the dance floor without another word.

Maman and I watched them for some time. Alice chatted on quite happily while Major Whitlock just smiled down at her, apparently transfixed by her rapid speech. Selfishly, I was worrying about what this meant for me. With Alice paired up, I'd be the only one left at home. I had no confidence that Alice's prediction would come true; that I would meet my great love here as well. I just didn't believe that any man would be interested in me when there were so many other girls here to catch their fancy.

After several dances, Alice and Major Whitlock left the dance floor hand in hand and returned to where Maman and I were standing. Alice's entire countenance exuded utter joyfulness. Major Whitlock continued to see no one but her. I tried to make polite conversation but it was difficult when the other two people were so wrapped up in each other. Just as Maman began to squeeze information out of Major Whitlock, another man approached, inserting himself between Major Whitlock and I. The moment I first heard him speak, I knew I would never doubt Alice again. Major Whitlock performed the introductions, but I heard none of it save for his name, Monsieur Edward Masen. I jutted out my hand and forced a greeting from my mouth. When his perfect lips graced my knuckles, I felt myself break out into a cold sweat, shivers raced up and down my spine and I could feel my nipples press firmly against the stiff material of my corset.

A myriad of expressions crossed his face in that instant and I thought for sure he could read my every emotion. He dropped my hand and reached for Alice's, but his eyes never left mine. Alice and Major Whitlock ran off back to the dance floor and it was just Maman, Monsieur Masen, and I. I heard him ask Maman if he could dance with me and she nodded before looking to me and questioning me with her eyes. I made sure my response was slow and steady, trying hard not to embarrass myself in any way. In retrospect, I probably managed to make myself sound like a simpleton, since he felt the need to comment on my good grasp of the English language.

Monsieur Masen took my hand and led me to the dance floor, but I hesitated once we reached it. The unpleasant voice in the back of my head chided me for all those missed dance lessons and the images of myself plummeting onto the dance floor the week before, flashed into memory. I felt his arm wrap around my waist and I instantly became calmer but as yet unready to face what seemed like certain death. If I made a mistake this time, I would never live it down. As I placed my other hand in his, I felt as though every eye in the room was upon me. Remembering how my maman had led us into this room, I stiffened my spine and looked up at him. His vibrant green eyes were trained right on me and a smile hovered at one corner of his mouth. He was tall, more than six feet, with long legs and long arms. In fact, everything about him was long and lean, right down to his bejeweled fingers.

Monsieur Masen wore his hair slicked back with pomade, which darkened the shade, but under the light of the chandeliers I could tell that his true hair color was much lighter and contained varying hues of red and blonde. He wore a beard but kept it short and cropped close to his face. It looked soft and I felt a sudden urge to nuzzle it. His nose was the perfect size and shape for his angular face but had a slight bump at the ridge, suggesting it had been broken once and reset. His unearthly beauty caused my head to spin, but once I regained my wits, I apologized for my lack of skill at dancing. He immediately reassured me, pulled me closer and eased me into the waltz. We fell into an easy conversation and from the way he spoke, I could tell that he was used to charming the ladies. His self-confidence shown as bright as his crooked smile. Up until that moment, I thought I was doing all right and holding my own, but when he leaned down to whisper in my ear, I would have surely dropped to the floor had he not had me in an excellent grip. His nose skimmed the side of my neck and he let loose with a salacious speech about the scent of my skin. All the blood in my body settled into my middle and for once I was glad of all the ridiculous layers of clothes I was forced to wear, for they shielded him from my body's reaction. Never had anyone said such a thing to me, and I _should_ have been outraged, but all I could feel was intense arousal. Immediately, he pulled back from me, shaking his head as if he were arguing with himself.

We regained our composure and once again the waltz became easy and effortless, as it never was for me before. We said nothing for some time, but when the music changed, Monsieur Masen inquired about it to me. He seemed unfamiliar with the composer and so I informed him that it was Gottschalk and a piece, which I knew quite well. I invited him to join me sometime and I could play it with him. The suggestion seemed to disturb him. He didn't answer, just plastered on a fake smile. As soon as the piece was over, he returned me to my maman and promptly left with barely a goodbye. I was so shocked by his sudden change in emotion and even quicker departure that it took me a minute to realize what had just happened. Maman seemed surprised as well, and started asking me what I had done to scare off the nice gentleman. I heard several girls behind us begin to giggle and whisper as they were no doubt eavesdropping. Maman's face grew ever more furious and her questions came at a rapid pace. I had managed to embarrass her again but this time was almost worse because I had no idea what I had done wrong. I felt the tears coming and made an effort to cover my face before dashing for the doorway. I headed for the powder room but ran straight into the chest of a man. Without looking up, I began to apologize profusely. The man reached under my chin and pulled my face up until our gazes met. He was young, with large blue eyes and light hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He smiled at me kindly and wiped away my tears with his silk handkerchief.

"A beautiful girl such as yourself shouldn't be crying in hallways," he whispered.

I just smiled at him and shrugged my shoulders. I didn't want to explain why I was in such a condition.

"Why don't you come back into the ballroom and share a dance with me?" he asked.

Before I could answer, Alice came rushing through the doorway; she must have seen me flee the room.

"Bella! Bella, are you alright?" I realized when she looked at me with one eyebrow raised, that I was still in the arms of the young gentleman and quickly stepped back out of his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I didn't want to cry in the ballroom again, so I ran out, but then my clumsy self ran right into this poor man. He was just helping me regain my composure," I explained.

"Uh-huh. Well, why don't I take care of you now, Bella? You can stay with Jasper and I if Maman is upsetting you," Alice suggested suspiciously.

"My apologies, mademoiselles; I have failed to introduce myself. I am James LaFontaine. Alice, I was just going to escort your sister back into the ballroom. I will see to it that Bella is occupied and her spirits lifted." James held out an arm for each of us and proceeded back towards the ballroom. Alice gave me an odd look, but accepted his arm.

Almost as soon as we entered the ballroom, Major Whitlock and Monsieur Masen were upon us, looking distressed. Major Whitlock summoned Alice away after Monsieur Masen exchanged heated words with Monsieur LaFontaine. I was upset that Monsieur Masen was being rude to Monsieur LaFontaine, who had been nothing but gentlemanly towards me. When he asked for another dance, I was confused by his inexplicable changes in emotion and my negative reply was extremely terse in nature. As Monsieur LaFontaine and I brushed past, I could feel the anger emanating from Monsieur Masen. Each time we circled past him on the dance floor, I could see that his stern gaze never left us. His left leg bounced in agitation and his hands were in tight fists at his sides. I was so distracted by his behavior that several times I trod heavily on Monsieur LaFontaine's foot. He politely pretended not to notice.

By our fifth time past Monsieur Masen, I saw that Alice and Major Whitlock had returned to his side and now all three of them were staring at us in an agitated fashion. To say I was confused was an understatement. I couldn't understand what would cause Alice to look so concerned.

"Mademoiselle Bella, if I may ask, what troubles you so?" questioned Monsieur LaFontaine.

"It's nothing. I'm just a little…distracted." When I looked up to his face I was momentarily stunned when I saw Monsieur Masen standing directly behind him. His hand came up and grasped Monsieur LaFontaine's arm tightly and our dance was immediately halted.

"James, I believe you have had your dance. I must reclaim this lady as my dance partner." Monsieur Masen's head tilted slightly to the side and his eyes darkened in fierceness, seemingly daring Monsieur LaFontaine to deny his request.

They glared at each other for a long moment. I did not so much as take a breath until I felt Monsieur LaFontaine's hand drop from mine and his arm loosen its hold of my waist. He turned without looking at me or speaking to me and stalked angrily towards the doorway. Monsieur Masen grabbed my left hand and pulled me towards him roughly. His arm went around my waist and he stepped right into the dance as if nothing untoward had just occurred. The orchestra accompanied a brilliant violinist as he played Paganini and we spun around the room with speed and an agility I didn't know I was capable of. Monsieur Masen's eyes were still heated, but no longer with the fire of anger. Though I was but a novice at this game, I could tell that it was lust that colored his gaze. As the music slowed, he dropped his head and I felt his forehead touch mine. A lock of his hair escaped and tickled my brow. His eyes closed and he spoke in a low whisper.

"I was determined to stay away from you but within minutes you already found yourself in danger without even knowing it. There are many wolves here, Isabella."

"And would you count yourself among them?" I asked.

"Unequivocally," he replied.

"I can take care of myself, Monsieur. I assure you, I am no helpless female in need of your protection."

I felt him shake his head slightly in disagreement. "Why are you here?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know. I don't want to be married, but I don't want to be alone. Alice is going to leave me, my brother already left. I don't know, I don't want to be alone," I repeated.

When his eyes opened, it seemed he had come to some sort of resolution. "Would you…would you stay with me if I asked?"

I stared at him for a moment and considered. He had pretty much admitted that he felt he wasn't a good man, but I had never gotten that impression. He made me feel safe, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that I desired him greatly.

"Alright, but we'll have to talk with Maman. There are details that she'll want to discuss with you and arrangements will need to be made."

He nodded his head slightly before replying, "Let's think about that later. Right now, I just want you to dance with me."

And that's just what we did. The rest of my evening was spent contentedly in Monsieur Masen's arms and at the close of the ball, he and Jasper spoke with Maman and agreed to meet us back at our cottage to hammer out a written agreement.

**A/N**

**Charles Worth, Empress Eugénie, and Marie Laveaux are all real folks…**

**Linkys for the dress and music on my profile…**

**I don't speak French and I certainly don't speak Louisiana Creole but I do know some words and I add them in to make it realistic…you should be able to figure them out contextually but if not, you can always ask…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't** **own this. A very, very rich lady named Stephenie Meyers does. 'Tis a pity….I'm still poor *sad face***

**However, this is my own strange little plot line….if you wanna write a fanfic story, get your own, you can't have mine *bitch face***

**Edited and re-uploaded 8/25/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

I don't know why I did it.

I watched her dance with James and felt the anger boiling in my belly. I knew he was no good for her but I tried to tell myself that I was no better. I stared daggers at him each time they whirled past and each time, James returned my stare with a smug grin. Alice and Jasper soon joined me and I was treated for the first time to Alice's ferocious temper. For such a tiny human being, she certainly was a spitfire.

"Monsieur Masen, you can NOT leave my sister with that man!"

"What would you have me do, Mademoiselle LaPierre? I offered her another dance and she refused. I can't force her," I answered testily.

"Why not?" she replied while stomping her foot. "Sometimes Bella needs a little push in the right direction. She's stubbornly indecisive and over thinks to a fault. And you…" She stopped and poked me in the chest. "You are the man that's meant for her. I've seen it."

I cocked an eyebrow at her in disbelief. What the hell was she talking about? Seen it? Seen what? "Mademoiselle LaPierre," I began.

"Alice," she corrected.

"Fine, _Alice,_ I don't know what you think you've seen or how you've seen it, but rest assured, I am meant for no one!"

Alice narrowed her eyes while creeping slowly towards me. Grasping the lapels of my frock coat, she pulled our faces closer together. Unsure of what she was about to do, I looked to Jasper out of the corner of my eye. He was rocking on his heels and grinning like a fool.

"Edward," she whispered close to my ear, "if you don't go get my sister right now, I will make sure your already cursed existence is made doubly so." She loosened her right hand from my lapel, smiled angelically, and patted my cheek lightly before twirling back to Jasper's side.

Stunned, I didn't move for a moment. My eyes swept the dance floor, quickly locating James and Isabella. I watched as she trod upon his foot and a small smile crept over my face. Before I knew it, my feet had led me to their side and I firmly grabbed James' arm and told him whatever I thought would make him leave. The moment Isabella was again in my arms, a sense of jubilation bubbled up from my belly and I swung her around to the up-tempo dance. The emotions I was feeling were so foreign to me. I knew not what to make of them but for the time being, I gave myself over to them.

Apparently, all sense of rational thought left my body and I found myself asking her to be mine. She attempted to turn the conversation towards the reality of the situation, but I rejected that. I didn't want to interject reality when I could continue to enjoy the euphoria caused by her acceptance. I had never asked a woman to be mine before. I had never wanted that responsibility. Women were merely a means to an end, something to be enjoyed and discarded. To put it succinctly, I didn't give a damn about them and I certainly didn't want them to feel any kind of connection to me, other than that of fleeting physical pleasure. To be beholden to a woman would leave me vulnerable and vulnerability was to be avoided at all costs. As long as I suppressed the reality of the situation, I could continue to enjoy the feeling of mutual affection and silence the inner voice, which told me to flee.

When the hour grew late, Renée came to collect her daughters and garner promises from Jasper and I to follow them back to their cottage and profess our desire to take them into keeping. After the ladies left, Jasper and I attempted to locate our fathers, but couldn't find them anywhere in the ballroom. An usher approached us and relayed to us that our fathers had left earlier and we weren't to expect them home this evening. They had obviously found another way to amuse themselves besides tormenting us.

Leaving the Washington ballroom, Jasper and I proceeded slowly on foot towards St. Anne Street and the LaPierre cottage.

"What sort of details will we be hashing out this evening?" I asked Jasper.

"Charles Swan will probably be waiting for us at the cottage. He'll write something up which illustrates how the girls are to be taken care of, how any children will be provided for, and what happens in case of dissolution of the arrangement. It won't be legally binding, but you are expected to honor it as if it was," Jasper replied.

"So am I supposed to provide for her as if she was my wife? Provide a home, money, that sort of thing?" I questioned further.

"Absolutely. You didn't expect to make love to Isabella with Charles and Renée in the next room over, did you?" Jasper chuckled.

"Definitely not," I paused to shiver dramatically. "You know I don't really know much about this whole thing. I hate going into things blindly."

"Don't worry too much about it, Edward. You don't have to put a lot of money into it. I'm sure they'll be happy with a small cottage and a suitable monthly monetary allowance."

I peered at Jasper and contemplated this information while we continued walking. "Is that all you plan to do for Alice?"

"No, Alice will get better than that from me. I only told you the bare minimum because I know you feel somewhat…coerced into this."

I shook my head slightly and stopped to light a cheroot. "I may not have wanted the night to end this way, but I can guarantee that I am not a heartless man, soulless maybe, but not heartless. Isabella will have the best. I have plenty of money and many ways to gain more. Besides, if she has to put up with me for any amount of time, she should be properly compensated," I replied, laughing.

The rest of the short walk was spent in companionable silence. Our way was lit by the combination of gas lamps and the moon. The noxious scent of sewage mixed with the pleasant aromas emanating from the tropical foliage created a smell unique to this below sea level city. The occasional palmetto bug buzzed past us and the throaty singing of cats echoed down the alleyways we passed.

"This way, Edward. The cottage is just down here," Jasper said while motioning me forward with his hand. We both approached the porch and Jasper rapped quickly upon the door. A dark skinned, red headed woman opened the door and looked us over with a skeptical eye.

"Monsieur Masen and Major Whitlock, madam, we're expected," Jasper announced.

The woman moved back silently, allowing us passage through the doorway. Renée appeared in the hallway from a room on the left.

"Gentlemen, we're waiting for you in the parlor. Please follow me."

I waved Jasper in first and followed right on his heels. Scanning the room, I saw that Isabella and Alice sat together on a small, brown velvet sofa. Renée sat down in a chair next to them, and Charles Swan was in the back corner of the room, seated behind a large desk. Two chairs were positioned in front of the desk and he pointed to them, asking Jasper and I to have a seat. He eyed us from behind his spectacles and ran his fingers through his full, white beard. The ladies behind us were silent and I couldn't see their facial expressions without turning completely around in the chair. Jasper took the chair to the left and I felt his right knee begin jerking up and down, his heeled boot making a light tapping noise on the floor. Charles Swan heard it and focused his unamused stare on Jasper. The tapping immediately ceased.

Being a lawyer, Swan had no doubt many years of experience in intimidation. I tried my best to remain cool and unaffected, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that the silent scrutiny was beyond uncomfortable. My urge to flee was strongest at that time; the only thing keeping me in my seat was the knowledge that some day I would have to face Charles Swan again, whether it be in a court of law or on the street, and I didn't want it to be on unequal footing. Not to mention, the whole of the Vieux Carré would know by morning if I ran screaming from the LaPierre cottage.

"Whitlock, I've known you all your life. You were a good boy and you've grown into an upstanding young man. The question is, can I trust you with the wellbeing of my daughter, Alice?"

"Absolutely Monsieur, without a doubt, Alice will never want for anything. I'll make sure of it." Jasper's voice shook slightly, but there was great conviction in his words.

"And what about when you marry? Will you abandon her and any children she might bare you?" Swan's voice was loud and booming; his eyes widened and his face flushed. Each word was punctuated by the slamming of his cane on the wood floor. A lesser man than Jasper would have surely soiled himself. I was certainly close to it.

"Even in the event that I marry, I will never abandon Alice. I love her already, Monsieur."

Gasps erupted from behind me and I looked at Jasper in shock. Dear God, he wasn't making this easy on me. How was I supposed to follow his act without looking like a jackass? The worst part was, you could tell by his face how thoroughly he believed every statement he just made.

Apparently satisfied, Charles Swan turned to me. "I don't know you; you're a Yanqui. What makes you think I'd turn my daughter over to you? You could turn around and leave when you're through with her."

"I assure you Sir, I would do no such thing. My father and I are relocating our family business to New Orleans. We have no plans to leave. I have a permanent residence below Natchez and plan to build a home here in the city as well."

"Yes, I heard about your acquisition of Evergreen. In fact, I believe the whole city has heard the tale. It's about time some one knocked that LaFontaine boy down a peg. That boy is a menace to polite society." Swan shook his head with disdain.

"Monsieur, if I could interrupt, it was Monsieur Masen who kept LaFontaine away from Isabella tonight. He was attempting to garner your daughter's affections, but Masen interrupted him and proceeded to keep her safely occupied for the rest of the evening," Jasper interjected.

"They let that bastard back in after what happened last year?" Swan shouted in disbelief.

"I could barely believe it as well, but there he was," replied Jasper.

"Masen, I must thank you for your diligence in regards to my daughter's safety, but I'm afraid I can not release her into your care. The fact remains that you are new to this city and foreign to our ways. Not a soul here knows you except for the Whitlocks and even they have only known you for a short time; isn't that correct?" Swan questioned.

"Yes Sir," I answered quietly.

"Father, if I might speak?" I heard Isabella's voice pipe up from behind me. Swan groaned quietly before nodding his head. "I would like you to reconsider because of my feelings on the matter," Isabella continued.

"And what are those, ma petite chouchoute?"

"I have developed a great affection for Monsieur Masen. I believe I would be quite happy in his care. Based on our conversations this evening, I can tell he is intelligent, polite, and well intentioned. 'C'est un homme très beau'," she added, giggling.

I turned to Jasper and raised my brow, questioning the end of her speech. He smirked and mouthed, "She thinks you're pretty," to me.

I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort and saw Swan look at me in disapproval. He sighed audibly and returned to stroking his beard.

"Whitlock, if I allow it, are you prepared to vouch for Monsieur Masen's behavior? I want you to personally see to it that he sticks to his promises. If he skips out on her and is never seen again, it is you who I will hold responsible. Do you understand?"

Jasper stiffened and I believed that he would refuse. I almost wanted to tell him to refuse; I didn't want him to have to take any responsibility for my sometimes erratic behavior. Before I could open my mouth, he was nodding his acceptance towards a relieved looking Swan.

A few minutes passed while Swan scrawled words on the paper in front of him and then he flipped it and pushed the paper towards the front of the desk for Jasper and I to look at. "These are the terms, Gentlemen. I expect that they will be followed and obeyed. I would remind you that though I do not have legal recourse in the event that they are not, I do have the ability to make your lives here extremely inhospitable. If I allow you to keep on living at all, that is. Whitlock, I believe you are familiar with what happened between LaFontaine and his placeé?" Swan paused and then acknowledged Jasper's nod. "I trust nothing of that sort will happen with my daughters. If it does…well, you can be sure that neither one of you will ever be seen on this earth again."

Jasper removed the paper from the desk and read it quickly before passing it to me. I read it over as well and found that it was quite similar to the terms that Jasper had told me about during the walk to the cottage. I nodded to Jasper while handing him back the sheet of paper. He rose and placed the paper back on the desk and motioned to Swan to pass him the pen and ink. He scrolled his name at the bottom and I rose to do the same. As I held the pen, I again had the urge to flee. My hand shook slightly and I cleared my throat. The pen hovered unsteadily above the paper and I glanced up to see Swan meet my eyes with a quizzical expression. He smirked at me as if he was daring me to run, like he could tell just what I was thinking. I quickly pressed pen to paper and scribbled my name under Jasper's before putting the pen back in its holder and returning to my seat. I heard a squeal and a little clap come from behind me. I spun my head to look and saw Alice hugging Isabella and kissing her cheek repeatedly. Jasper was watching as well and a small smile lit up his face.

"The hour is quite late, Gentlemen. You may come to call on the girls as often as you wish, with prior notice of course. The visits will continue to be chaperoned until the time that they leave this house permanently. Before that occurs, you will have houses and servantry prepared for their arrival, and I'm sure that Madam LaPierre would like to give the girls a party before you take them away." Swan looked towards the girls before continuing, "Alice, Isabella, you may see the gentlemen to the door. Make it quick."

Jasper and I bid Swan and Renée adieu, before we each took the arm of our respective girls. Jasper and Alice left first, with Isabella and me following behind them. After they made their way through the front doorway and onto the porch, I thrust open a door on the other side of the hallway and yanked Isabella inside the room. I quickly closed the door to the darkened room and pushed her up against the backside of the door. She uttered a tiny yelp, but made no move to protest my embrace. All of the nervous energy I'd built up from the meeting with Swan needed an immediate outlet, and I was about to show Isabella just how much I desired her. With my hands under her arms and braced against the door, I lowered my head and caught her lips with mine. I pressed the length of my body against hers and poured my frustration into the kiss. As I melded my lips to hers, her chest heaved and I felt her hands go to my shoulders. I expected her to push me away, but instead she pulled me impossibly closer. The hoop of her skirt pressed painfully into my shins, but I paid it no mind. I slid my hands from the door and placed them tightly on her hips before sliding them slowly upwards. Each inch they crept forward, I awaited a protest from Isabella, but it never came. I tickled her bottom lip with my tongue and her mouth opened narrowly. I took the opportunity and slid my tongue inside her mouth. She tentatively stroked it with her own, but I could tell she had no experience with this type of intimacy. My hands reached the top of her gown and I squeezed her bosom lightly, running my thumbs across where I knew her nipples lay just under the fabric. She shivered under my touch and a quiet moan left her throat. I continued kissing her, driving my tongue deeper into her mouth and pressing the back of her head into the door. My hips ground into her, seeking friction against her stiff gown. With sadness, I forced my mouth to leave hers in order to breathe. I couldn't let her go though so I attached my mouth to the spot just under her ear and proceeded to lick and suck lightly down her neck to where the tops of my thumbs lay. I caught my thumbs in the material of her dress and pulled it down so that when I dipped my tongue under it, I was met with her pert nipple. Using only the tip, I trailed my tongue slowly around it in a circle before brushing the peak. The response from Isabella was an instant jerking of her hips. I turned my head a little and performed the same action on her other nipple and again her hips jerked. I let out a shaky breath, knowing that this had to stop or we would be caught. I kissed slowly up to the other side of her neck from where I started before softly connecting my lips to hers.

"Isabella," I whispered.

"Hmmm," she answered, her eyes still closed.

"I have to go, or both of us will be in a lot of trouble. I'm pretty sure your father wasn't joking about having me killed." She shook her head up and down without opening her eyes. Her tongue slid out and swiped across her pouty bottom lip before she captured her lip with her teeth. I grabbed her hand and led her away from the door. Opening it slowly, I peeked out to make sure no one was in the hall. The front door was within a few steps and I rapidly made my way to it, pulling Isabella along behind me. We made it out the door and to the front porch where Jasper was leaning up against a column, waiting for me with a grim expression.

"Will you come back soon?" Isabella asked.

"As soon as I can," I replied. I kissed her hand and bid her goodnight before turning to leave with Jasper. We were half way down the street before he spoke.

"What were you doing inside for so long?"

I just shrugged my shoulders and ran my hand nervously through my hair. He turned to look at me and I could see the warning in his eyes.

"Don't do anything we'll both regret, Edward. I promised Charles Swan that you would be a decent man. If you do anything stupid, it's not Swan you'll have to worry about answering to. Do you understand?"

For a moment, fear rippled through me, as I comprehended his meaning. Knowing full well that I probably wouldn't be able to live up to any one's expectations, I turned to my friend and lied right to his face. "Completely Jasper; you won't have any worries from me."

At the corner, we parted company, Jasper towards his home and me towards my hotel. After he was out of sight, I turned on my heel and headed back in the opposite direction. I had no intention of returning to my hotel; instead I made my way southwesterly, in the direction of Basin Street. There I would find the comforts I sought. The sporting houses full of women, the raucous music, the gaming tables and the liquor.

**ma petite chouchoute –my little favorite**

**'C'est un homme très beau'-He is a handsome man**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just borrowing them and making them do bizarre, though historically accurate things for my own entertainment and no monetary gain.**

****

**Warning: Drug use, smexxing and Edward generally being a dumbass up ahead.**

**I am not condoning visiting whore houses or smoking up in 19****th**** century opium dens. It may have been legal then but it sure isn't now …well, at least not in the United States!**

**Edited and reposted 8/25/10 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

By the time I hit Basin Street, I could feel the sweat rolling down my back. The air had become significantly cooler because it was nearly two a.m., but it was still so humid that I could have drunk the air as much as breathed it in. Despite the late hour, the street was flooded with light from the sporting houses which lined it. Laughter tinkled through the open doors and the drunken shouts of merry-makers echoed loudly through the night.

I approached the entrance to Madame Renault's and scanned the front room before entering. A red-headed man plunked noisily away at the upright piano with a girl half laying on the bench next to him, picking her nails and looking bored, while another perched perilously on the piano's top. The rest of the room contained couples lazily dancing and others curled up around each other on the small sofas, which decorated the room's perimeter.

Ducking through the doorway into the next room, I located the bar tucked into the left hand side and saw that Madame Renault herself was tending bar that night. Though she may have once been a beauty, she was now well past her prime. Her ice blonde hair was streaked heavily with white and her skin sagged, having lost its youthful elasticity. She was clothed in a blue silk dressing gown, which fell in a deep V and gathered tightly at her waist. Her rather large bosom spilled out of the top of her corset and wobbled like pudding with her every move.

An older man brushed past me and reached the bar first. "Irina, pass me a brandy, please," I heard him shout.

I settled onto the high backed stool next to him and politely waited my turn. Madame Renault smiled when she saw me and retrieved a second empty glass. "Bonswa chèr, what may I get for you?"

"I'll take a brandy since you already have the bottle in hand," I replied.

"So kind of you to join us again. Will you be playing the tables tonight or are you more interested in one of our fine mademoiselles, hmmmm?"

After she filled my glass, I motioned her closer with a curve of my finger. She leaned across the bar, her heavy bosom crushed against the wood top. Whispering in her ear, I asked, "I've heard you have a room in the back where I might find something a bit stronger than brandy. Do you think you could show me in?"

She winked at me and said, "Finish your brandy and I'll take you back."

Smiling to myself, I inelegantly downed my brandy in one swallow and slipped a bill onto the bar top. Madame Renault came out from behind the bar and led me to a door at the rear of the room. Through that door was a small, wooden staircase, which we descended to get to the bottom floor. Once we were through another doorway, we entered a poorly lit room in which several men sat smoking pipes. The dull haze of smoke filled the air and it was surprisingly quiet considering the noisiness of the upper floors. The men hardly seemed to notice our entrance, their glassy stares suggesting an advanced state of inebriation. Madame Renault nudged a bundle of cloth with her foot and I was surprised when the bundle moved on its own. "Emilie, get monsieur a pipe," she commanded sharply.

It was difficult to see in the room, but an arm jutted out, a pipe in its grasp. I took it and passed Madame Renault another bill. She exited the room and I found an empty seat on a cushioned chair close to the door. The shrouded woman eyed me from the floor. My own eyes were adjusting to the darkness, allowing me to notice her café au lait colored skin and thin brown hair. A smile crept over her face just before she broke into a cackling laugh. Shivers ran through my body when I saw the deep, ugly scar that marred one whole side of her face. Her teeth were mostly gone and her cheeks thin and sallow. Even so, I would have guessed she wasn't much more than twenty years old.

"We don't see many of your kind here, mon ami." Her voice was husky and her eyes heavily glazed like the other men in the room. I wasn't sure what she meant so I just shrugged and swiped a match across the heel of my boot. I held the lit match in the bowl of the pipe and took a slow drag. The sickly, sweet smoke filled my lungs and I held my breath, visualizing the opium coursing its way through my bloodstream, on its way to alleviating my every frustration and returning me to my formerly emotionless state.

I did not let myself think her name and attempted to banish all unbidden images of her from my mind's eye. When I was through in this room, I was going back upstairs to find a girl, or two. Isabella was just another girl, I told myself. If I thought of her as more, it would only lead to trouble, trouble for her, but worse still, trouble for me. If I became close to her, she would leave me; I had no doubt of it. They all leave. Even my own mother left.

Upon exhale, the smoke whirled around my face, its amorphous shape beguiling to my now relaxed eyes. I sank further into the soft chair, the feeling of nothingness creeping over me and covering me like a blanket. The insecurities dripped off me and I ceased to care about much of anything.

Once the pipe was finished, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. My body felt almost weightless, like I wasn't even in it any more. Yet I knew sleep would elude me as it had every time I indulged. I remained that way for quite some time, drifting along in some semiconscious state of heavenly emptiness. I was disturbed by the sudden calling of my name; its lilting quality certainly female but unrecognizable to me. It was comforting and blew through my mind like a gentle breeze on a spring morning.

I opened my eyes and instead of seeing the small, dark room filled with smoke, I was in the nursery in our old home in Chicago. I heard the voice call my name again, followed by quiet laughter. Suddenly, I was giggling too and felt giddy with happiness. Again and again the voice called out from different parts of the room like we were playing hide and seek. I peeked from my spot under the desk and a bronze haired woman with large green eyes came into view in the sunlit room. The vision was so clear; I could see the dust particles sparkling as they passed by the floor to ceiling windows. As she stalked closer to me, I knew that I had been found and would soon feel the comfort of her motherly embrace. She reached down to pick me up but the moment I expected to feel her touch, her shape became vague and then disappeared all together. I began to shriek in the way that children often do when something they want is suddenly taken from them. My hands clasped over my ears as I continued screaming. My knees came up to my chest and I curled into a ball. I felt hands on my legs, grabbing my pants and tugging, trying to get my attention. That only caused me further panic. I curled tighter into myself, beginning to rock while haphazardly slapping at the hands. They continued their tugging and soon a voice accompanied them.

"Monsieur! Monsieur! Please, Monsieur!"

When I looked down, it was Isabella's eyes I saw staring back at me in horror; her face twisted and gouged from temple to chin; her skin sick and sallow. I screamed louder than I probably had in all my life. Screwing my eyes shut, I shook my head in an attempt to remove the vision from my drug-addled mind. Finally wrenching the hands from my legs, I scrambled up from the chair, intent on leaving the room as fast as possible. During the struggle, the girl had lost her balance and toppled backwards onto the floor before hurriedly scurrying back to her spot by the door, where she cowered away from me. I knew I couldn't leave without apologizing, but I wanted nothing more than to escape the room and leave it behind for good. She must have sensed me hovering over her for she looked up right then and I was relieved to see that my mind no longer conjured Isabella's face instead of Emilie's. I whispered, "I'm sorry," before swinging open the door and making a hasty exit.

I made it back to the stairs and sat down for a moment, intent on collecting myself before returning to the upper floors. Taking deep breaths and running my fingers through my hair, I tried to shake off the hallucinations. I always thought that I didn't remember my mother and even though I had never even seen a picture of her, I felt that must have been the woman in the nursery. There was no mistaking the bronze hair and green eyes that were not inherited from my father's family. The last vision involving Isabella was particularly dreadful to me. I knew my mind was telling me that her being involved with me was sure to cause her harm. I stiffened my resolve to keep her at arms length and hoped that I could reign in my inexplicable passion for her.

I heaved myself to my feet with the aid of the banister and slowly made my way up the stairs. Though the effects of the drug were far from gone, I felt I had regained control of my faculties enough to not embarrass myself further. Upon opening the door at the top of the steps, the brightness of the room made me wince and my hand went to my head to partially shield my eyes. Madame Renault lazily leaned on the bar top and surveyed the room which had emptied considerably during the time I was downstairs. She smiled when she saw me and motioned as to whether I would like another drink. I nodded my head and flopped back down at the bar. The glass appeared in front of me and I drank it down greedily, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"So chèr, would you be interested in some companionship now?" Madame Renault asked with a wink.

I shook my head yes, and as an afterthought added, "A blonde, please." The last thing I wanted to do was visualize Isabella while I was with a whore. I wanted no such thing to sully her image in my mind.

"Go down that hallway," she pointed to the right side of the room, "three doors down on the right, she'll be perfect for you."

I snorted, no one was perfect for me, but I slid off the stool and made my way towards the hallway. I wrapped lightly on the third door and braced my hands on the doorframe while I waited. I was looking down when the door opened so the first thing I saw was the small, naked toes of the whore in the room. My eyes slowly trailed up, taking in the soft curves of her pale, white limbs, which were uncovered clear up to mid thigh, the roundness of her hips and the fullness of her uncorsetted breasts. Her only clothing was a fitted, white chemise, which left her nearly completely bare. When my eyes reached her face, she smiled; probably happy I wasn't another old man. Long, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She waved me in and I loosed my hands from the doorframe and followed her into the tiny room, which consisted only of a bed, a small wooden chair, and a nightstand with a lit oil lamp on it. She turned back to face me once she reached the side of the bed, still smiling, but wringing her hands and bouncing a little on her toes. She appeared nervous; she must not have been doing this long. I cocked my head to the side and looked her up and down again. She really was a beautiful girl.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Ich heisse Lauren," she replied, in an extremely thick German accent.

I narrowed my eyes and laughed, "You don't speak English, do you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, no.

"Fantastic, I don't know any German."

Lauren sat down on the bed, while I unbuttoned my frock coat, hanging it on the back of the chair. I removed my cuff links and undid the buttons of my waistcoat and the shirt underneath before depositing them both on the chair as well. I could feel her eyes on me while I removed my pants, leaving me in nothing but my linen under-drawers. I heard the mattress shift and looked up to see that she had positioned herself on her back in the middle of the bed and was patiently waiting for me. I walked over and stood at the foot of the bed.

"Open your legs; let me see you," I said. So she would understand, I gently nudged her knee with my hand. She allowed her legs to fall apart, exposing her center to my gaze. It was covered in tight blonde curls, a shade darker than the hair on her head, and glistened with the sheen of her arousal. I pulled the drawstring of my under drawers and permitted them to fall to the floor at my feet. Grasping the bedpost with my left hand, my right found my cock and I stroked it slowly, taking in the view. Her eyes widened, no doubt appreciating my rather ample endowment. I paused in my ministrations to reach into my pants pocket and retrieve the small package, which held a most wonderful invention. Every man should give thanks daily for the brilliance of Charles Goodyear. The rubber sheath I held in my hand allowed for relatively safe congress between the sexes. Well, every rich man anyway, the sheaths cost a pretty penny and were not always easy to obtain. Poor men still had to take their chances and were at risk for catching the madness of syphilis and populating the world with bastards.

Lauren watched intently as I rolled the sheath onto my cock before climbing between her legs. I knelt in front of her, my hands trailing up and down her slender lower limbs. Her breathing quickened each time I passed closer to her center.

Motioning with my hands, I told her to remove her chemise, after which I observed her skin break out into gooseflesh and her pale nipples pucker in anticipation. Leaning over her, I took a nipple into my mouth while sinking my fingers into her warm wetness. I was awarded with a gasp of pleasure and proceeded to position myself at her entrance. I slid into her slowly, still working her nipple with my mouth. She threw her head back and released a breathy moan whilst arching her back and pressing her chest further into my face. Bracing myself on my forearms, I began to work into a slow and steady rhythm, not anxious to finish quickly. Lauren's legs wrapped around my hips and she answered my thrusts with her own gentle movements. This was why I loved whores; no emotions, no pretenses, no false promises or lying words were required. There was just the warmth of another body moving with your own to create mutual pleasure, the physical sensation, heat, sweat and exertion blocking out everything else in the world.

Looking down on her, I saw that her eyes were shut tight and her little mouth was forming whispered words I would never know the meaning to. I buried my head in her neck and concentrated on enjoying myself. Something was off and it took me awhile to figure it out. When I nuzzled close and smelled her skin, I wanted so much to find the scent of honeysuckle, but Lauren smelled of cheap perfume. My hips faltered slightly, losing the rhythm as Isabella's face drifted through my thoughts. Rising up off of Lauren, I shook my head and tried to force the image of Isabella back into the recesses of my mind. I moved into a kneeling position, pulling Lauren with me by her hips and began pushing into her roughly. Her whispered words disappeared and she moaned loudly in appreciation, meeting my every thrust with equal force. Watching as my cock disappeared inside of her again and again; I moved my right hand from her hip and began applying pressure to the area at the top of her cunt, which would cause her the most pleasure. Her hands reached up and wrapped around the wrought iron bed frame above her head, enabling her better leverage against my pounding hips. Her internal muscles squeezed me tightly, pushing me closer towards orgasm. Just before I came, I heard her call out in pleasure, and a look of surprise crossed her face. It pleased me to know that I gave her something she probably rarely received from her other patrons.

Spent, I pulled out of her and lay at her side. There was no rush to leave, seeing as though dawn was breaking over the city and I was likely her last job of the night. She curled under my arm, her head finding a comfortable nook there. Her fingertips glided across my chest in gentle circles, weaving through the smatterings of chest hair and tickling my belly. It felt good to simply be physically close to someone, a treat I so seldom allowed myself.

Lauren's soothing hands nearly lulled me to sleep, but when I caught my eyelids fluttering closed without my permission, I knew it was time to leave. Dragging my tired body from the bed, I pulled my clothes back on and removed a wad of paper money from my billfold. Glancing back down at the bed, I saw that Lauren had fallen asleep, her chest rising in a slow and steady rhythm. I deposited the cash on her nightstand and as an afterthought, I drew the bed sheets up to cover her nude form and keep her comfortable until she awoke.

The walk back to my hotel was uneventful. The shops and legitimate businesses were just starting to open; the cafes were full of customers enjoying their morning refreshments. I stopped in the lobby of the Hotel Maison de Ville to check for messages before proceeding on to my suite in one of their very stylish garconnières. A note from Jasper topped the pile; everything else was seemingly unimportant.

_LaPierre cottage 4pm._

_Come prepared to discuss housing options._

_-Jasper_

I snagged one of the hotel employees and arranged for a bath to be prepared. It had been a long night and I wanted to be able to relax for a short time before trying to think about real estate. After the bath was ready, I sank down into it and paused to examine the last twenty-four hours of my life. Isabella's face crowded out everything else. I wanted her, that I was sure of, but the very existence of that strong desire for her drove me crazy. I didn't want to want her so badly.

Pulling myself from the tub, I dried off and threw on a clean pair of under drawers before crawling drowsily into bed. I had a few short hours to recharge before heading out to find a new home to share with Isabella. My last thought before succumbing to sleep was one of happiness; she would be mine and I would make her happy. I was going to find the best damn house in the Vieux Carré!

**Garconnières=bachelor's quarters**

**Don't hate on Lauren too much, I know she's not Bella and all, but she has no sinister purpose in this fic. She's just a poor little immigrant girl with few options.**

**Yes, I am well aware of the fact that this fic violates the high and mighty terms of service on so if the admins stop being ****laissez-faire and go all big brother on my ass then I will just post this some where else and let ya know….**

**There's a little button down here…see it? Yep, the green one. You could push it and tell me what you think…or not, it's okay. Just remember, got a question? I'll answer anything that doesn't give away the plot…got a criticism? I'll take those too…trust, I am not easily offended…at all…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight Saga, its characters or its plotline. The bank owns my house and my husband's truck, but thanks to my tax return, the ten yr old Subaru will soon be all mine…yippee. Oh and this is MY story…don't steal it. Use your brain and come up with your own.**

**Edited and re-posted 8/25/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

My bed offered me no safe haven. I tossed and turned for several hours, only finding a modicum of sleep. The banging of the door finally roused me from my false slumber and I made my way out to the front room. My father sat at the small table where I took my meals. I sighed and swiped a hand through my hair; I really didn't feel like talking to him at that moment.

"Good morning, Edward. Mr. Whitlock informed me that you and Jasper were quite successful last night," he said, a broad grin stretching across his face.

I merely grunted in response. I was hoping to avoid the subject altogether.

"I hear she's a pretty little negress," he continued, baiting me. "I bet you can't wait to get into that."

"Shut up old man, you don't know what you're talking about."

My father's hearty laugh echoed through the room.

"Oh, so you like her, do you? I didn't think you had it in you."

I stomped petulantly back into my bedroom, seeking a set of clean clothes and a moment alone. I stared vacantly into the armoire while absentmindedly stroking my naked chest. My brain felt foggy, my limbs heavy and sluggish. I heard the outside door open again and seconds later, the scent of coffee and breakfast food wafted into my room. Gathering suitable clothes, I dressed slowly and returned to the front room.

"Where did you go after you left the ball last night?" I inquired of my father.

"Whitlock and I spent the rest of the night at the gaming tables. Your name was bandied about often. You must be making quite the impression in this town. The other gentlemen admire your skill; they congratulated me on my fine son," he answered, after taking a long draught from his cup.

I sat down at the table and saw that a plate of eggs and bacon had been set out for me, along with a cup of coffee. The coffee I finished in one swallow, the food I poked at, its scent making me slightly nauseated. When I looked up, my father was looking at me speculatively.

"I've noticed you haven't been eating much lately, Edward. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied while shoveling a forkful of eggs in my mouth.

"So, now that you and Jasper have these girls, what are you going to do with them…besides the obvious anyway?" my father asked, his blue eyes alight with a mischievous twinkle.

"I have to buy a house," I answered simply and poured myself more coffee from the silver urn.

"That shouldn't take long; small cottages in the French Quarter aren't hard to come by."

"That's not exactly what I'm looking for," I muttered.

"Is that so? What perchance are you looking for then?" he questioned suspiciously.

"I was thinking about something a bit…grander, more elaborate, and roomier."

"You know she's just a glorified whore, Edward. You don't have to waste money on seducing her; you already own her."

I stood quickly from the table, my abrupt movements causing my chair to topple backwards. Anger and tension filled my body. "No one owns her, least of all me and don't call her a whore, she's a nice girl," I shouted at him. He stared at me, seemingly shocked by my outburst. I should have been shocked; I never stood up to him like this. Feeling emboldened, I picked up my plate and dashed it against the wall behind my father's head.

"Sit down and shut up, Edward. You're acting like the I brat I always knew you were." The blood had rushed to his face and his veins stood out from his neck. "Maybe you don't own her, but you're my son and I _made_ you, in all senses of the word. I could just as easily cut you down, and don't think I won't." He appeared so furious; his last words were barely a whisper. I reached down and righted the chair before seating myself upon it. My hand shook as I grasped my cup and refilled it. Eyes downcast, I avoided my father's angry glare.

No further words were spoken and after finishing his meal, my father gathered his hat and gloves and headed for the door. He turned back to me and spoke before exiting. "Don't put your faith in a woman, son. Court them, fuck them, hell, even marry one of them, but don't ever fall in love with them. They'll leave you high and dry for whatever new cock catches their fancy. Don't. Ever. Forget. That."

The door banged shut behind him and the room was shrouded in silence for many minutes while I sat and stared into my once again empty coffee cup.

Seeking to clear my head, I hoisted myself out of the chair and headed back to my bedroom. Rifling through my dresser drawers, I found my little bottle of liquid happiness and emptied it into my mouth. I sighed, just one more thing to add to my busy day. No matter, procuring my drug of choice was just as easy here as in St. Louis.

I sat on the side of the bed and waited for the wave of calm to wash over me and dispel the hazy feelings of anger, disappointment and remorse. I was angry with my father for his words, but I was also disappointed with myself that I wasn't able to hide my feelings from him. The less he was involved in my affairs, the better. And then there was the remorse, not an emotion I felt very often. I had inadvertently reminded him of my mother and she was an issue we never brought up. I had learned from an early age not to ask questions about her and to this day I only knew a smattering of facts regarding her disappearance. Most of my information had been garnered through overhearing my father's occasional solitary drunken tirades against her. I remembered the vision from the night before and wondered what part of my subconscious that memory had been locked up in. I was so young when she left that I truly believed I didn't remember her at all, and before now, I rarely gave her a moment's thought. Deciding not to waste any more time contemplating something that would never be, I reached down for my boots and put them on. I checked to make sure my knife was still firmly sheathed inside my right boot; you could never be too careful when walking the city streets, even in broad daylight.

I escaped my rooms and emerged onto the sunny street, heading for the law offices of Swan and Whitlock. If I was lucky, I would find Jasper there and he could help me locate a proper house for Isabella. I wanted this matter settled quickly, thereby shrinking the time in which I had to screw things up.

It was already midday when I walked into the office from the busy thoroughfare known as Canal Street. Shops and offices lined the street, which separated the Vieux Carré from the new neighborhoods that were springing up due to the influx of Americans, Germans, and Irish into New Orleans. Besides arranging for a new house for Isabella, I also had to see about purchasing some land up on St. Charles Avenue, in the American District. I had visions of building myself a grand new house in the Greek Revival style that was so popular lately. This house would be all mine, my sanctuary, my escape.

The front room of the office contained several chairs for those waiting to speak to a lawyer, but they were all currently empty. A large desk sat off to the left side, behind, which sat a pale, skinny, young man with black hair, bad skin and spectacles.

"Mr. Masen, here to see Major Whitlock, if he's in," I addressed him.

"Of course, Monsieur, let me see if he's available." The gangly youth exited the room and returned a few minutes later with Jasper following behind him.

"Edward, I'm surprised to see you here. I thought we were to meet this evening?" Jasper questioned.

"Yes, but I wanted to get started on the house hunt immediately."

"Anxious, are you?" Jasper chuckled.

"A bit. Would you mind showing me some of the available homes? Maybe we could find two close together so that Alice and Isabella won't be far apart," I suggested.

"My thoughts exactly, Edward. In fact, I have a few places in mind already. Let me get my coat and hat and I'll show you." Jasper disappeared to the back rooms again but quickly emerged, throwing his coat on while he walked.

We spent the next two hours or so, scampering down one street after another in search of the perfect houses. I was very lucky to have Jasper, as he was extremely knowledgeable in regards to these practical matters. He knew which streets held the finest homes and which of those were available for purchase. He also handled a lot of real estate transactions for his father's firm, which could provide us with the upper hand during negotiations with sellers.

We finally settled on two, two-story homes on Dauphine Street. They were both solidly built, their twelve-inch thick walls made to withstand the occasional hurricane and to make them less susceptible to destruction by fire. Jasper explained to me that the whole city had burned to the ground at the end of the last century, so new buildings were held to stricter codes in hopes of preventing another disaster.

The facades of both houses were artfully decorated with wrought iron, which also formed the second floor balconies. The floor to ceiling windows would allow for a generous amount of outside light and the interior rooms were spacious and well kept. Satisfied that the houses would be beyond acceptable, Jasper and I made arrangements with the sellers to purchase the properties.

We made a quick stop back at my living quarters to freshen up before hurrying over to the LaPierre cottage. We were greeted at the door by the same red headed slave woman who had answered the night before, and were shown in to the parlor. The ladies sat waiting for us in the same formation as last evening, the only difference being that Charles Swan did not appear to be in residence. Renée invited us to sit down on the sofa with the girls, who quickly scooted over to make room. Jasper and I situated ourselves so as to be seated next to our respective partners.

"Monsieur Masen, Major Whitlock, please excuse me and I'll see about some refreshments," Renée announced before exiting the room.

Jasper immediately launched into a discussion about the new houses and Alice listened attentively while bouncing up and down with intermittent squeaks of joy. Bella turned to me and smirked, "You bought us a house already? You must be in a bit of a hurry."

I felt the blood rush to my face. Was I…blushing? Shrugging my shoulders and nodding my head, I answered with a simple, "Yes."

Renée chose that moment to re-enter the room, carrying a tray, which she placed on the small table in front of us. She poured each of us a glass of iced tea from a large pitcher, and pointed out the selection of pastries and fruits available.

"Maman, Jasper and Edward have already found us homes. Can we plan the party for next week?" Alice inquired excitedly.

Renée appeared surprised, but nodded her head. "Usually I would stay and chaperone, but since there are four of you, I believe you can be trusted to act respectfully. I'll just go and discuss the party arrangements with Katie. You can find me in the kitchen if you need me." As Renée retreated from the room, she gave us all a look which clearly said, 'behave yourselves.'

I watched Isabella take a long, slow drink from her glass and suddenly felt very thirsty myself. I could hear Jasper and Alice on the sofa beside me, but I tuned them out, mesmerized by the movement of Isabella's throat as she swallowed. A rivulet of perspiration rolled down from the spot behind her ear. It glided down her neck and rolled over her bosom, disappearing into the space between her breasts.

I wanted to follow it.

With my tongue.

Her chest began to heave a bit; her skin erupted into gooseflesh and turned rose red.

"Edward?" My gaze shot back up to her face. I hastily cleared my throat and tried to pretend I wasn't just molesting her beautiful décolletage with my eyes.

"Yes, Isabella?"

"You may call me Bella, if you'd like. That's what my family calls me. I feel like we don't know each other very well. Perhaps you could tell me something about yourself," she inquired shyly.

I ignored her suggestion; I liked the way Isabella rolled off my tongue. "What would you like to know?" I hated talking about myself and wasn't going to make this easy on her.

"You are here with your father, right?" I nodded my answer. "And you are from Chicago?" I nodded again. "Is your mother still there?"

"She's dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Isabella looked down at her hands, momentarily flustered by my sharp response.

Not wanting her to think I was upset, I elaborated. "It's all right, I never knew her. She died when I was barely out of infancy."

"You don't have any siblings then? It's just your father and yourself?"

"That's right. It's always been just the two of us for as long as I can remember. I've learned everything I know from him; how to behave in polite society, how to excel in business, just…everything." Of course, I had to heavily edit that answer. Isabella didn't need to know _everything _I learned from my father.

"Are you in business together now?"

"We had a highly successful shipping business in Chicago; we're attempting to set up the same kind of business here," I replied.

"Why did you leave Chicago if you were doing so well there?"

I sighed. How did she know to ask all the questions I didn't want to answer? I weighed my options, outright lie or skirt around the truth? I decided on the latter. "We believe the future of American shipping lies in the South, so we sold our company with hopes of building a bigger and better one here in New Orleans."

Isabella seemed satisfied with that answer and didn't immediately move to further question me. She began wringing her hands and biting her lip, obvious signs of her nervousness. Trying to make her feel more comfortable, I spied an upright piano tucked away in the corner of the room and invited her to come and play with me. Flipping through her sheet music, I found a contemporary piece arranged for two players and familiarized myself with it quickly while Isabella settled in next to me on the bench. I smiled down at her and we both stretched our fingers out onto the keys. She played beautifully, keeping perfect time with me. Every so often, her arm would brush mine, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I was surrounded by the scent of honeysuckle every time her heavy hair shifted with her movements. The girl was swamping my senses and overtaking my defenses.

As the last note rang out, she looked up at me and smiled radiantly. Looking over her head, I noticed the room had emptied; Jasper and Alice were gone. Moving of its own volition, my right hand reached out and grasped her neck. Isabella gasped quietly as I ran my thumb softly over her throat. I watched her tongue trail across her pouty bottom lip, a hungry gleam in her eye, surely reflective of my own. I tugged her forward and our lips connected. I latched on to her bottom lip and sucked it into my mouth, relishing her sweet taste. Isabella's utter innocence spurred me on, igniting an almost animalistic desire to take her and make her mine. Sounds that emanated from the core of my being filled the room. For a moment, I pondered the fact that she must surely think me a mad man. My instincts conquered my good sense and I proceeded to take her lip between my teeth and bite it gently but fervently. Abandoning her bottom lip, I took her top lip in the same manner. Small whimpers escaped her mouth and her body crushed itself against mine. Finally, I delved my tongue into her mouth, winding and twisting it with hers. My hand trailed down from her neck and squeezed the exposed area of her plump bosom. Isabella's right hand ghosted over my knee, causing my lower body to jerk and tense. She grasped a hold of my thigh, tightening her slender fingers along its top.

"Edward, I'm afraid it's time to leave."

Seeing Jasper looming in the doorway, I dropped my hand and released Isabella's lips. She stood abruptly and ran past Jasper and out of the room. I remained sitting at the piano, trying to catch my breath and will my cock to settle down so that Jasper wouldn't be subjected to the sight of it bulging in my trousers.

"You do realize that instead of me, it could have been Renée coming in here and you would have been asked to leave and never return," Jasper stated.

"Well then, why did you leave me alone with her?"

Jasper cocked his brow and grinned smugly at me. "I didn't know your self control was so lacking that you couldn't be left alone for five minutes without attempting to deflower the poor girl on the family's piano!"

"Neither did I, Jasper. Neither did I," I practically whispered.

"Let's go before you get yourself in trouble. I wouldn't want you to be so overcome as to pluck her up from her seat at the dinner table and take her against the sideboard next to a serving bowl full of steaming gumbo."

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Jasper," I snapped while marching past him and toward the front door.

Once we were outside, I let Jasper catch up to me. "Would you like to have dinner with me? We could stop in at Lafitte's," he suggested.

"That would be fine. I just have to make a quick stop first." We headed toward the corner of Bourbon and St. Philips Street, stopping at the apothecary on the way. Telling Jasper that I would only be a moment, I left him outside and slipped into the shop to pick up another bottle of opium. I emerged back out onto the street shortly there after and Jasper eyed me suspiciously.

"What did you need in there?" he asked.

"Just something for my stomach trouble; I'm not used to all this rich food," I explained. Jasper seemed placated by my answer and we resumed our walk to Lafitte's.

After a leisurely dinner by candlelight, Jasper and I parted ways. Once again, I allowed him to think I was returning to my rooms when I had no intention of doing so. I took off toward Basin Street, shoving my hands in my pockets and strolling slowly. I soon found myself pacing in front of Madame Renault's infamous establishment. Hearing the loud music and laughter coming from within, I realized that for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like finding my evening's entertainment this way. Not sure what to do with myself, I meandered back to the heart of the Quarter. When I looked up, I discovered that my feet had carried me to the front of the LaPierre cottage. The windows were dark, suggesting that every one was already in bed for the night. I went around to the side and ducked down a small alley that ran behind the cottages. Thanks to the full moon, I located the back of the LaPierre cottage and entered the small yard. Light streamed through a little window in the center of the tiny second story. As luck would have it, the back of the cottage was covered in thick vines, supported by a heavy, wooden trellis. I made my way over to it, pushing past an over grown banana tree and a mass of fragrant bougainvillea. I tested the trellis and it appeared to be sturdy. Thankful that I hadn't had more to drink than a few shots of whiskey after dinner, I began the short climb to the window.

When I reached the open window, the scene that greeted me stole my breath and nearly caused me to fall backwards. Isabella, ensconced on her bed and surrounded by mosquito netting, lay sleeping, a book upon her breast. I squeezed through the window, lowering myself with the least possible noise onto the floor. Creeping to the side of the small bed, I pushed the netting aside and delicately lifted the book, placing it on the nightstand.

"Isabella," I whispered. Her eyes flew open and for a moment I was afraid she'd scream.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" she asked, pulling her sheet up to her chin. I laughed lightly at her show of modesty and proceeded to lie down on my side next to her.

"We never finished our conversation from earlier," I replied while reaching over her and extinguishing the candle with my fingers. I nuzzled my face down next to her ear and so quietly it was almost inaudible I said, "We didn't get to talk about you. I want to hear all about you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, the book, the movie franchise, nothing. I also don't own the Bible (you're all making the WTF? face now aren't you!) I do own two tickets to see KoL in september, and a brand spankin' new Macbook Pro! I love tax returns.**

**Edited and re-posted 8/25/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

Even though we were only apart a short while, the anxiety I felt was keen. After spending all evening dancing in his arms, I already felt as though I never wanted to leave his side. I could see that Alice regarded Jasper the same way. The short carriage ride was spent in nervous, though silent, anticipation. Alice's feet tapped rhythmically on the carriage floor, while her hands clutched the skirt of her dress tightly. Maman sat across from us, a satisfied smirk upon her face.

I felt each shimmy and shake of the carriage, rattling my bones and jostling my tired muscles. Sitting stiffly, I endeavored to keep my nerves at bay. I was apprehensive of what might happen when my father was introduced to our gentlemen. What if he refused one, or even both of them? I made up my mind at that moment that I would allow no other outcome than for both Alice and I to be matched with our chosen partners. Usually, I was never one to be demanding, but in this case, I would not let my will be thwarted.

When we arrived back at the cottage, Maman requested to speak with Father in private, and so we left them alone in the parlor. I was disheartened when she emerged, the smirk gone from her face, replaced with a grim look.

"Wait in the parlor with your father. I'll escort the gentlemen in upon their arrival," Maman requested.

Alice and I filed into the room and quietly took our seats on the sofa. Father smiled at us from across the room, but said nothing. Mercifully, we did not have long to wait; Edward and Jasper entered the room with Maman only a few minutes later. Just the sight of him caused my heart to race and my cheeks to flush warmly. I noticed his hair, carefully slicked back at the beginning of the evening, was now in disarray, as if he had been repeatedly running his hands through it. Could he have been as nervous as I?

Edward barely spared me a glance before settling into the seat next to Jasper. They both kept their attention trained on my father as he used his well-practiced intimidation tactics on them. Alice's gaze never wavered from the back of Jasper's head, and I did the same with Edward. I noticed how his hairline came to a point at the nape of his neck and formed a curl I ached to touch. Two moles graced the skin under his left ear, causing me to momentarily fantasize about tickling the spot with my tongue. I immediately decided that I had to stop reading those French novels Jacob sent before I could conjure up any more bizarre desires.

My musings were interrupted when Jasper announced his love, resulting in a strangled gasp and near swoon from Alice. If I had been looking forward to any such declarations from Edward, I was to be sorely disappointed. He was obviously not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. My father worked him over, quite as I expected. What I didn't expect was that such a big deal would be made over my dancing with Monsieur LaFontaine. I planned to ask Alice what all the commotion was about later.

In the end, I had to stand up and share my feelings on the match, as Edward was doing a lousy job defending himself to my father. It concerned me that maybe he was looking for a way out, that he didn't feel strongly for me and was secretly hoping my father would refuse him. After my speech, I could see my father was still very hesitant, but he managed a compromise in which Jasper was to monitor our relationship to make sure I was properly cared for.

When my father dismissed us, I watched Jasper and Alice leave first. Edward slowed his steps, allowing the two of them to draw further ahead of us. I had no idea what he had in mind until I found myself whisked into the empty dining room and thrust against the back of the door. The room was very dark, only a hint of light coming in through the windows from the street. It was just enough light to reflect the feral gleam in Edward's eyes as he pressed his lips to mine. A momentary flicker of shame passed through me while I contemplated my quickly vanishing virtue, but it was easily dispelled by his insistent mouth. I might never have been kissed like this before, but as he snaked his tongue into my mouth, it became increasingly clear to me that he had, and probably often. I only hoped that I was doing it right and that he wouldn't be disappointed with me.

As his hands trailed upwards, my only discernable thoughts were of lustful desire. I made no move to stop him, though his slow pace suggested that he believed I would. I thought I would cry when his lips left mine, but when I realized what else he had in store, I shivered in anticipation. I was very much inclined to enjoy feeling the other things he could do with his talented mouth.

His thumbs against my already hardened nipples were exhilarating. His mouth and tongue on them produced such a reaction that I could not help but try to grind myself against his body, which was flush with mine. Unfortunately, the damned hoop frame prevented me from achieving the friction I desperately desired.

All too soon, Edward pulled away from me and attempted to snap me out of my lust-induced haze. I licked my lips, savoring his taste and reliving the last few minutes in my mind. Somehow, we made it back out into the hallway and through the door to the outside. The look on Jasper's face made me recall exactly why our behavior in the dining room was ill advised, but in a way, I felt I needed it. I needed to feel that Edward was as attracted to me as I was to him, especially after his reticent attitude in the parlor.

I didn't want Edward to leave, and I pleaded with him to return as soon as possible. I hoped it didn't sound as desperate to him as it did to my own ears. When he delivered his promise to do so with sincerity, I felt a slightly better.

Upon returning to the interior of the cottage, I fully expected to see Alice waiting to pounce, but was met with silence and an empty hallway. A faint light shone under the door to my parent's room and another under Alice's door upstairs. I crept past her room and entered mine. I spent a good deal of time freeing myself from my dress before collapsing on my bed. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was blowing out the candle and hurriedly closing the mosquito netting which curtained the bed.

That night, my dreams revolved around one person, one face. He was everywhere, surrounding me, touching me, whispering all my secret desires in my ear. When I awoke, my nightdress and sheets were wet with perspiration and entangled with my limbs. I scrambled out of the bed, stopping to wrestle with the netting I always forgot was there. Flinging on a dressing gown, I made my way downstairs and discovered it was already mid-morning.

"Why don't you come in and get something to eat, chère?" Katie called from the kitchen.

I entered the kitchen and sat down at the small table that Alice and I usually took our meals at. "Katie, would you help me get a bath ready?" If Edward and Jasper returned that evening, I wanted to be presentable.

"Yes, I will. I may have heard something about a pair of gentlemen coming to call this afternoon, but maybe you aren't as excited as Alice. She's been up since dawn badgering me and mooning over that Whitlock boy. I don't know what she's so worked up about; those boys didn't look like anything special to me," Katie teased.

"This afternoon? Really? I'll have to hurry then. Where is Alice?" I asked.

"She's down with Angélique. The devil only knows what they're cooking up," Katie answered with a sigh and placed a full plate of food in front of me.

"What do you really think of our gentlemen? I know you were spying outside of the parlor door like you always do," I said, grinning conspiratorially.

"Well, I'd say they're real fine looking, but I worry about their moral character," she stated.

"And why is that?"

"I might have been passing by the dining room last night and I heard some awfully strange sounds. Do you know what they could have been?" Katie asked, grinning and chuckling.

My face flushed and I suppressed a smile as I shook my head. "No, ma'am. I wouldn't know anything about that at all."

"Uh-huh, I bet you don't. Get on up and pull the tub out while I warm you up some water."

I immediately complied with her request and shortly thereafter I had the pleasure of a leisurely bath.

When Alice returned, we helped each other dress and she told me all about Jasper and his family, without allowing me to get a word in. For once, that was actually fine with me. I realized that if Alice had asked, I knew almost nothing about Edward. I decided to rectify that situation that very afternoon.

We were already gathered in the parlor when Jasper and Edward arrived. Maman led them in and then departed after leaving us some refreshments. The announcement that they had already purchased Alice and I homes took us all by surprise. It suddenly became real to me that I would be leaving my childhood home very soon and becoming mistress of my own.

Heavily distracted by Edward's presence beside me, I grabbed one of the glasses of iced tea that Maman had brought and tried to think of something to say to start a meaningful conversation. I could hear Alice and Jasper prattling on with each other next to us and wondered why it was so easy for them to talk while I was filled with anxiety. The room felt hot, almost stifling as bits and pieces of my Edward-filled dreams danced into the forefront of my mind. I glanced over to Edward and saw that his eyes were trained on me, just not on my face. His tongue jutted out and swiped across his lips. My nipples stood to attention, remembering the feel of his mouth on them. My breath quickened and I frantically searched my mind for something to draw my interest away from the lustful thoughts that swirled around me like a heavy fog.

Starting simple, I asked the most basic questions I could think of. Still, Edward seemed annoyed at being questioned at all. My confidence plummeted, especially after I innocently asked about the whereabouts of his mother, only to find it was obviously a painful memory for him. I gave up and fidgeted nervously beside him. When Edward suggested we play the piano together, my mood brightened. I may not have had many talents, but I excelled at the piano.

Playing next to Edward was a highly sensual experience. His long fingers coaxed beautiful sounds from the keys as he kept time with me. When the song ended, he looked over my shoulder and I glanced back as well. Jasper and Alice were gone; the fog of lust quickly filled the vacant space. In the blink of an eye, our hands and lips were reaching for their counterparts, the sound of our pants and moans replacing the sound of the piano music. He kissed me as if he was a starving man, my lips his first meal in days. As quickly as we had fallen into each other's arms, we jumped apart just as suddenly. Without a word I fled the room and bolted upstairs to my bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Sitting on my bed, my hand to my chest, I attempted to catch my breath and bring my emotions under control. I couldn't believe my behavior. Since the night before, I was like a girl possessed. I barely knew myself any more. My family would have been shocked if they had seen our actions on the piano bench. Edward would have been told to leave and our arrangement would have certainly been in jeopardy. I could not let anything stand in the way of my being with Edward, and so I resolved that a strict distance would have to be kept between us until I left this house. It wouldn't be so bad, only a week or so.

After a short time, I got up, smoothed my dress and checked my appearance in the mirror before leaving the room. I crossed the hall and rapped on Alice's bedroom door.

"Alice, would you accompany me to St. Louis?" I asked when she opened the door.

"Bella, we missed mass this morning and there isn't one offered tonight. Why do you want to go there now?"

"I just…I need to get some perspective and that's the best place I can think of," I whispered in reply.

"Alright, let me just get my hat and gloves." Alice scurried about her room, finally locating her hat and gloves, which were thrown haphazardly on the window seat.

We both stepped into the kitchen before leaving, finding Maman and Katie still deep in their party planning session. They both nodded and waved us off when we announced where we were off to.

"Jasper and Edward left rather quickly," Alice stated after we were several yards from the cottage. "I wonder why that was," she continued, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, wondering when I had embraced lying as a preferred means of answering questions. Oh right, it coincided with the advent of my other moral lapses. "Where did you and Jasper get to?"

"I took him to the kitchen to introduce him to Tante Angélique. She told me this morning that she would like to meet him and would stop by around the time they were due to arrive."

"She didn't scare him, did she?" I inquired, recalling how frightening Tante Angélique could appear to outsiders.

"Of course not. She made sure to look less intimidating than usual." I knew full well what Alice meant. On any given day, Tante Angélique could be found in elaborate costumes she created herself. Bright colors and patterns showcased her still flawless figure, bangles clinked noisily at her wrists and large gold hoops dangled from her ears. She was also seldom seen without Felix wrapped around her shoulders. Felix was a rather lengthy albino snake. I snickered quietly to myself, wondering what Edward would think when he met her.

"So, Felix stayed home?"

"Yes. That's why it was such a short visit. She doesn't like to be parted from him for long," Alice answered. "At least Jasper has lived here practically all his life and won't shock easily. It's Edward I'd be concerned about. He's not even Southern; he has no idea what he's got himself into," Alice added, as if sensing a future issue.

"Something tells me he's seen a lot in his time. He's not exactly naive or innocent," I explained.

"Why do you think that?" A concerned look crossed Alice's face.

"I don't know, really. He seems a little…jaded, older than his age suggests. By the way, what's the issue with Monsieur LaFontaine?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Bella! How could you not know that story? You really don't pay much attention to the outside world, do you?" Alice asked, betraying her exasperation with my head in the sand tendencies. "LaFontaine was the bastard that ruined Emilie! Do you remember her from Monsieur Banner's school?"

"I think; she was older than us though, wasn't she?"

"Only by a year or so. Anyway, she agreed to be his placeé. Her parents didn't approve. They wanted her to get married and had already decided on the undertaker's son, Sam. Her parents refused the match between her and James, but Emilie left in the middle of the night and ran off with him. She wasn't seen again for months and it was assumed that she was living with him on his plantation; the one that he lost to Edward. Emilie always was very independent minded and she wouldn't listen to anyone. I suspect that James didn't appreciate those qualities because one night, she showed up on her parent's doorstep; her face slashed and covered head to toe in bruises and lash marks. She didn't have any shoes, and from the state of her feet, it looked like she had walked all the way from Natchez."

"What happened to her?" I asked, shuddering in horror.

Alice sighed. "Her parents said it was her fault she was ruined and slammed the door in her face. She hasn't been seen since then. I don't know what happened to her. Do you understand now why we had to keep him from you?"

I nodded my head, too shocked to speak. The whole situation reminded me of how precarious it can be just being a woman. I considered whether I thought Edward could be capable of such villainy, my heart telling me no, but my mind telling me that Emilie likely felt the same way about James when she met him.

"Don't worry, Bella. Nothing like that is going to happen to us. I would know." I simply smiled back at Alice and wished that I had as much faith in her abilities as she did.

Just then, we reached the cathedral property and slipped in a side door. The church had an eerie, mystical feel. The lights were dimmed and the low whispers of a few worshippers could be heard echoing through the darkened nave. Alice and I made our way to an unoccupied pew, as far from anyone else as we could manage. Both of us kneeled, retrieving our rosaries from a small pocket stitched into our dresses and began the recitations we'd memorized from a very early age; the words rolling off our tongues with ease. It didn't particularly matter what they were, they provided calm and comfort just the same.

We stayed that way for quite a long time. The last rays of the setting sun colored the aisle inside the main entranceway before we readied ourselves to leave. Maman didn't like us to be out unescorted after dark, so Alice and I hurried along the streets without stopping, making it home just as dusk turned into darkness.

The day had been long and draining. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and read myself to sleep. It seemed Alice was in agreement. I listened to her tell Maman we were home and then heard her steps trailing slowly up the stairs behind me. We retired to our rooms after wishing each other a hushed good night. I changed into a clean nightdress and then scanned my tidy bookshelf, seeking something to keep my thoughts clean and uninterrupted by visions of Edward. That ruled out any of the French novels.

I had never seen a man unclothed, which somewhat limited my imagination, but I had felt Edward's hands on my body and I knew the basic mechanics of lovemaking. I had heard it described as both a chore and a duty, but also as the ultimate act of giving oneself, an act leading to a small glimpse of heaven on earth. I guess it was different things for different people. I chose to believe that it would be heavenly. I couldn't imagine I would ever see lovemaking with Edward as a chore. Bearing this in mind, I pulled my well-worn copy of the Bible from my shelf and climbed into bed. Leafing through its thin pages, I stumbled upon the Songs of Solomon, and remembered the beauty with which he described his lover. I had often thought it was a rather odd addition to the Bible, having only to do with the love for one's spouse as opposed to the love of God, but it was always one of my favorites. At some point, I must have fallen asleep; the next thing I heard was the whisper of my name as the book was removed from my chest.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" I wasn't sure if he was a vision or if he was there in the flesh, but either way, I was scared out of my wits and trying not to shout my alarm and alert everyone in the house.

"We never finished our conversation from earlier," he replied calmly as he reached over and extinguished the candle with his fingers. "We didn't get to talk about you. I want to hear all about you," he whispered ever so close to my ear.

"You can't be here. We've very nearly been caught twice. We can't keep doing this. It puts the whole arrangement in jeopardy!" I explained, trying unsuccessfully to keep the panic from my voice.

"Ssssshhh." Edward placed his fingers lightly upon my lips in what I assume was supposed to be a soothing gesture. "Don't worry, no one will suspect a thing as long as you can be quiet about it. What book was so lucky as to spend time gracing your bosom?"

"I was reviewing some relative passages in the Bible." The room was dark, but Edward's face was so close to mine that I saw his eyebrow cock in surprise and felt the rush of his cool breath as it came out in a half chortle/half snort.

"That wasn't the answer I was expecting. When you move into your new home, I'll have to make sure you have a bigger, more exciting literature selection."

"I have dozens of books, Edward. This is what I chose to read. And there's plenty of exciting things in the Bible, battles, love affairs, death and destruction." I could have rattled off a longer list, but I wasn't sure he could be persuaded to see things my way.

"And what parts were you reading tonight, the battles or the love affairs?" His voice took on a sultry tone by the end of his question.

"I was reading the Songs of Solomon, so I suppose I was interested in the love affairs."

"You could have read about Delilah or Jezebel if you wanted to study biblical love," Edward suggested. I was surprised that he seemed to know a bit on the topic; he hadn't struck me as a man who knew his biblical teachings.

"They both ended badly. I prefer the love drunk beauty of the Songs," I explained. I brought my hand to his face and molded it to his cheek. "_Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine."_

Edward let out a shaky breath before lightly touching his lips to mine. This was not like the fevered kisses I was used to receiving from him. It was soft, gentle and almost reverent in nature.

"_Though art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee," _he whispered upon my lips. _"Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon."_

Our bodies curled together on my small bed. Edward grasped my thigh, tugging it over his legs so that it rested on his hip and brought us as close as physically possible. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and I felt him softly suckling and kissing the skin there.

"_I am the rose of Sha'ron, and the lily of the valleys…My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies," _I choked out, very nearly overcome at the sensations that were charging through my body.

He raised his head and leaned his forehead against mine, our noses touching slightly.

Edward's hand trailed down my leg and grasped my foot, his long fingers curling around the heel and slowly moving up the back of my leg. _"How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince's daughter! The joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman."_ He took a deep breath and his hand slipped quickly under the material of my nightdress. _"Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies." _His hand had ghosted over my hip, his fingers settling across my belly for a moment before continuing on their journey upwards. _"Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins."_ His thumb passed over my nipple, my whole breast now cradled by his palm. I threw back my head and gasped, pushing my chest forward and closer to his mouth. Edward followed my lead; his head descended and his mouth covered my nipple entirely. The gentle suction of his mouth, combined with the light flicking of his tongue was causing my body to flex and grind against him.

Edward rolled us so that he was lying on top of me, and reached back down behind my knee to pull me close, while thrusting his hips against mine. If not for the fact that Edward was still fully clothed, he would have been filling me with himself. I could easily feel the extent of his excitement as it rubbed gloriously against my naked center.

Edward's mouth traveled back up from my breast to my lips, stopping shortly to lick and suck on my collarbones and along my jaw. His tongue met mine as we indulged in a fierce kiss. Our bodies continued to grind into each other. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I gripped his suspenders under his coat and used them to further leverage my body against his. His breath quickened and came out in stuttering gasps. I could feel the sweat from his brow mix with mine and dampen the bed sheets under us just before I was overcome with the most intoxicating sensation. As if sensing in my moment of complete satisfaction that I might accidentally call out my joy, Edward clamped his mouth onto mine and drove his tongue back into my mouth, stifling my moans. I felt him shudder and shake on top of me and then still suddenly. He broke the kiss and his head dropped to the pillow, his heavy breaths tickling my shoulder. I dropped my legs and freed his body, allowing him to roll off me and lay by my side.

After a few minutes had passed and our breathing returned to normal, Edward grasped the hem of my nightdress and pulled it back down, recovering my naked form. His arm draped across me and pulled me to him so that we both lay on our sides. I felt a rustling and heard his boots drop off and hit the floor with a muffled thud. For some reason, this struck me as funny. After all that we'd just experienced, the man had not even removed his boots. I tried to suppress my giggles, but they came out as an undignified snort. His quiet laugh alerted me to the fact that he had heard me and agreed that it was amusing. I shut my eyes and drifted off quickly without even pausing to worry whether Edward would leave before dawn.

The next thing I remember was the unnatural feeling of being watched. My eyes popped open and I tried to focus on the figure which sat upon the chair by my bed. At first, I thought it must be Edward, but when I felt his arm move at my waist, I knew it wasn't possible. And then I remembered it was Monday morning, wash day. Katie always came early to our rooms and collected all of our bed linens and dirty clothes. And there she sat, her eyes boring holes into mine, just as they did when I was a naughty child. Edward's arm around me stiffened, and I knew he must also have registered the presence of another in the room. He was up like a bolt, wrestling with the netting and grabbing his boots. He tossed them out of the window and then heaved his body out after them. Unlike last night, when he made it in my window without a sound, this time I could hear him banging his way down and swearing voraciously. My head swung back and forth, my eyes alternating between the window and Katie. I couldn't believe the bastard just left me there, defenseless.

Katie's loud, cackling laugh broke through my moment of dismay and grabbed my full attention. "Chère, you should see the look on your face! I almost pity that boy. I have a feeling he's going to be regretting that move later! Now, help me get these sheets off so I can get out of here and collect Alice's."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or much of anything else. I also don't own Rob's ass, but I still want to tap it!**

**A/N**

**All you lovely reviewers are just fabulous and I love to get them; they make my inbox purr!**

**the RAoR H00rs- your support makes me want to lick you all, especially PJNurse, who's a great cheerleader, Becky, Melbie, LRAD and Jolori (amongst others) who have the most excellent Robporn spankbanks!**

**kezcullen for giving my Edward a nickname "Opiumward"-gave me a good giggle!**

**auroraborealis for giving me a really good reason for Katie to be in Bella's room and for leaving me little descriptions of what's going down in N.O. and reminding me of how much I want to get back there!**

**Nora just cuz your awesome!**

**my SIL cuz she read the whole thing, opened up a fanfic acct and left me a review w/o calling me a perv...yet!**

**NY13-cuz you questioned my intentions and my motives and I FUCKING LOVE THAT! Part of this chap is for you...you should know it when you see it ;)**

**Edited and re-posted 8/25/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

BPOV

I waited all of Monday for some word from Edward, but none came. Jasper arrived that afternoon at four and when I inquired of Edward's whereabouts, Jasper shrugged.

"I don't know, Bella. He wasn't in his rooms and he wasn't at his father's office. He may have had business elsewhere."

I hated the look of pity on Alice's face. "Would you mind accompanying us? Jasper would like to show me the new house, but you know I can't go with him alone."

Watching the effortlessly happy couple tour their new home wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon, but it would have been terribly rude to refuse.

"Of course I will, Alice. If it's not too much trouble, maybe we could take a peek at mine, since they are on the same street," I requested.

"I'd be happy to show you which one it is. Edward and I were very pleased to find two lovely homes so close together," Jasper answered with a reassuring smile.

Alice and I informed Maman of our destination, and left with Jasper shortly thereafter. The walk was a short one, our homes being only a few streets over from the cottage. When we arrived at Alice's new home, the door was flung open and several tall, well-muscled, black men were bustling in and out, carrying heavy furnishings and rolled up carpets.

"I hope you don't mind me getting started on the necessities, Alice. I wanted the home to be at least partially furnished and ready for you to move in. If you'll agree to come back with me tomorrow afternoon, I'll have someone here to help you pick out your draperies and linens," Jasper offered.

"We can do that, can't we, Bella?" Alice asked, her giddy excitement showing.

I nodded my assent to her, wishing I could also be planning for my own home. Maybe Edward would come tomorrow and we could do some decorating of our own.

I sat on one of Alice's new sofas and waited while she dragged Jasper through all the rooms of the house, telling him all of her decorating ideas and what additional furnishings she would like. After what felt like hours, we locked up the house and proceeded down the street. Jasper pointed out the house that was to be mine, and I stared, my mouth hanging open like a fish. It was beautiful. The soft peach color of the exterior paint sparkled in the sun's fading beams. Intricate wrought iron adorned the front of the house and formed a wrap-around porch and upper balcony.

I walked up to the porch in order to sneak a peek in the windows, hoping that Edward too had begun preparations for my imminent arrival. After checking all the first floor windows, front and back, I could see that he had not. The house stood barren and empty. My heart sunk a bit. I was still irritated with him for leaving me alone that morning, and I couldn't help but feel even more upset that he hadn't begun any of the household preparations.

I rejoined Alice and Jasper on the street for the walk back to the cottage. Alice was wearing the pity face again. Determined not to let my upset show, I slapped a smile on my face and spent the rest of the walk asking Alice about her decorating plans. Jasper took his leave after delivering us safely to our door. We snuck a late supper and retired early to our bedchambers. My sleep that night was undisturbed by any wayward gentlemen.

Tuesday passed much the same. Jasper arrived, _sans _Edward, once again reporting that he did not know his whereabouts. Before we left to go to Alice's house, Maman relayed to us that the party was set for the following Saturday evening and that we would be required for a dress fitting that Wednesday afternoon.

I waited patiently while Alice prattled on, discussing patterns and thread count with the shopkeeper. I gazed towards the doorway where Jasper stood smoking, hoping against hope that I would see Edward loping up the stairs to join him.

Wednesday came and went with no word either. Alice and I were fitted for our party dresses, which were styled much like wedding gowns. Jacob had created them months ago, and sent them to us to be stored until they were needed. Enveloped in tulle and satin, we peered into the mirror, finding ourselves the very image of blushing brides.

By Thursday, I began to wonder if I had done something terribly wrong that caused Edward to stay away. I kept to my room most of the day, telling anyone who bothered me that I was enthralled in a book and couldn't be troubled to put it down. In reality, I was going over every interaction between Edward and I. Had he done the same on Monday and decided that I was in some way lacking?

On Friday, I was practically vibrating with righteous indignation. How dare he behave this way! Even if he had changed his mind, it was only fair that he come in person and revoke the contract.

Maman and Katie fluttered around the cottage, decorating and telling Tyler which pieces of furniture to remove to create more room. Each time they passed by me, a worried look would cross their faces. I knew that they too had wondered whether Edward would come on Saturday.

Dozens and dozens of family members, friends and acquaintances were expected to attend the party. If Edward weren't present, it would not only mean humiliation for me, but also for my family. Of course, what Edward did not realize was that our community stuck together. Our family may be humiliated, but no gens de coleur libre would ever do business with the Masens.

Friday night, I barely slept. I taunted myself by rereading the Songs and remembering Edward's hands deftly tracing over my body. I was beginning to believe that I would never feel them again.

Shortly after the break of dawn, Alice flung open my door and demanded that I leave my bed and start getting ready. Katie wasn't far behind her. She came, carrying a tray laden down with café au lait and beignets. She was obviously trying to improve my mood by bringing my favorite breakfast. It worked, a little.

It took most of the morning to get ready, even with Tante Angélique there to help. Felix eyed us all warily from his spot, curled up on my bed. Guests were to begin arriving in the early afternoon, allowing the party to start early and go late into the night. The band started setting up at two, and we listened to them practice while adding the final touches to our appearance. Maman ran in and out, trying to be everywhere at once, and Katie could be heard barking orders at the girls Maman had hired to help for the day. The girls bustled between Alice and I, sorting our belongings into trunks to be delivered to our new homes. I wondered if I would just be putting everything back later that night, if Edward didn't come.

With our dresses on, our hair done high on our heads, and our makeup applied, we were finally ready. The noise from downstairs grew louder, signifying the steady arrival of our guests. As the time for our debut came closer, I became increasingly unnerved. Wearing a hole in the floor, I paced back and forth, my heavy dress swirling around me. Finally, Maman came rushing through the door.

"Girls, it's time to head down to the parlor."

Alice and I exited the room, following close behind Maman. When we reached the top of the stairs, I looked down to see that the lower floor was packed with people, their attention trained on us. No one had said a word about Jasper or Edward, so I didn't know if they had arrived or not. We paraded our way to the parlor, stopping continually to receive the congratulations of our guests along the way. Most of the room's furniture had been removed to make for freer movement, only a few chairs remaining, and a table upon which sat heaps of gifts. The band played cheerily, and many of our guests had already begun to dance and clap merrily to the music. I spied my father, relaxing and chatting in a chair in the corner, probably missing the security of his large desk. He was not the most sociable of men.

Alice's grip on my hand became almost painful as she dragged me farther into the room, no doubt searching for Jasper's face among the crowd. It soon became apparent that neither of our gentlemen had arrived. No one seemed surprised, so I tried not to let it worry me, but I'm sure the concern showed on my face.

"Don't worry, Bella, they'll come," Alice reassured me.

A few moments later, I heard her squeal and knew that she must have seen them come through the door. I turned to look in the same direction, and saw Jasper enter the parlor. The look upon his face when he looked at me said it all.

Edward wasn't coming.

I heard Alice gasp and swing around to face me. "Bella, don't panic. He'll be here, just give him some more time. I promise you, he'll come. Stay right here and let me talk to Jasper."

Alice dropped my hand and made her way over to Jasper. She pulled him into the hallway, probably trying to find somewhere to talk quietly. I backed myself up against the wall, in an effort to disappear. It didn't work. Guests kept coming up to me to make small talk. I didn't really hear anything they said, just nodded my head and tried to act politely. It felt like all of my internal organs had turned to mush and were attempting to force their way out of my mouth. My eyes watered and tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. Ridding myself of another well-wisher, I escaped the room and headed for the back door.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I finally found myself alone in the backyard. I settled onto the garden bench, careful not to snag my gown. The heat from the mid-afternoon sun bore down on me, stifling my breaths and making me perspire under the heavy layers of my dress. A rustling sound caught my attention, and I turned to look behind me.

"Bella? Could I have a moment of your time?" I groaned; the one thing that could make this day worse was having to speak with Michel Newton.

"I suppose so, Michel. What can I do for you?"

"I noticed that your gentleman hasn't arrived. Is there a problem?"

"He's not coming, Michel," I answered in a low voice, the tears spilling from my eyes as my heart and mind acknowledged Edward's betrayal.

Michel came forward and dropped to one knee in front of me. He reached out and grasped my hand, his eyes looking at me tenderly.

"I know I'm not what you think you want right now, Bella, but I also think that you could grow to love me in time. I have a fine home and a good job. You'd be well taken care of. I want you to reconsider my proposal, especially in light of recent events. I want you for my wife, and I believe that this is what Jacob would want for you too. I know you have always held your brother in such high regard; I truly believe he would be happy to hear that we had decided to wed."

"I don't love you, Michel, and I don't think I can."

"Do you love him?"

Michel's eyes stared into mine, searching for the answer before I could speak it aloud.

"Yes, I do. It may not be advisable to fall in love with such a man, but I have anyway. Now I just have to figure out what to do about it, since it seems that he's run out on me."

A humorless giggle escaped Michel's mouth as he continued to lightly massage my fingers. "So there's no hope, then? You're really going to pine for a man who isn't worthy of you, and has made it clear that he doesn't want you?"

"I have no intention of pining, Michel. As soon as I figure out how I'm going to do it, I'm going to find him and make him tell me in person why he has changed his mind. I want an explanation. I'm confident that I deserve one."

Michel rose from his knee and dusted off his pant leg. "If any woman can convince a man to love her, I'm sure it's you. I'm just sorry that you won't let me be that man for you. I think I've made a big enough fool of myself over you, Bella. If you'll excuse me, I don't think I'll be staying. I'm not much in the mood for a party right now."

With that, Michel turned on his heel and exited the yard through the back gate.

I stared after him, stopping to ponder if I was indeed making a mistake by not taking the easy, domestic life he offered. An audible throat clearing and boot scuffling interrupted my thoughts.

"You look beautiful, sitting there like that."

"Where have you been?' I asked, the venom in my voice only lightly concealed.

Shaking his head and sighing, he ignored the question. "You should marry him. He's right, he'd be better for you."

"I have no interest in Michel Newton. I could have married him already if I wanted to, but I don't. Where. Have. You. Been?"

Edward was leaning against the back door, his hands fingering the brim of his hat in agitation. He appeared dirty and disheveled, like he had just returned from a hard day's ride. His hair was sweat-soaked, curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. His eyes were downcast, flitting between me and the ground at his feet.

"I was away."

"That's all you can say? _I was away. _Really, you can't do better than that?"

"Do you actually believe you're in love with me?"

I rose from the bench and started towards him, my body trembling with anger. "You are the most exasperating, infuriating man. Why can't you ever answer a single question?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to answering for my behavior," he replied so quietly I almost didn't catch it.

"What?"

"I'm not accustomed to having someone care about where I've gone, or what I've done. No one has ever cared before. I'm sorry to have…disappointed you," he answered slightly louder.

"I'm going to ask one more time, and I would like you to tell me honestly. Where have you been?"

He pursed his lips and looked me in the eye. "I went back to Evergreen. I was going to stay there and hope that this whole thing would blow over."

"Because you don't want me?"

"It's never been a question of whether I want you or not. It's whether I should be allowed to have you, and I don't think I should. You think you love me, but you don't know me. You don't know the things I've done…and the things I still do."

"Then enlighten me. What have you done that's so awful?" I asked, truly curious as to the answer and very surprised that he was actually allowing me to question him.

"I don't want to tell you, you'll be disgusted with me."

I bridged the physical distance between the two of us, placing my hand on his so that he would stop tugging at his hat. His eyes widened when he realized how close I was to him, and he took a deep breath.

"Before I met you, I spent all my time with dancing girls and whores. I went to the theatres and playhouses. I was known in every bawdy establishment in Chicago. I got into some…trouble in Chicago and we had to leave. I've hardly worked a day in my life and to be honest, I only know the bare minimum about my own family business. No one should trust me with a dog they like, let alone their beautiful, intelligent, _innocent_ daughter."

I just stared at him. When I asked the question, I truly had no clue that he would confess. Shame covered his face and he went back to looking at the ground, instead of my eyes.

"Are you going to continue to behave this way?" I finally gathered the courage to ask.

"I don't know. I've never known another way. I know that's not a good excuse, but it's all I have. I want to be better, but I don't know _how_ to be better."

"But if we're together, maybe you won't feel the need to do all of those things any more, maybe you can be happy with just me," I suggested, grasping at straws.

"Isabella, you are more than enough to make any man happy, but I don't trust myself with you. I'm afraid I'll hurt you even worse. Don't you understand? You deserve better than a man who slept with a whore the very night he pledged himself to you. I'm a fool, and a completely untrustworthy one at that."

This time, his admission made me feel sick. If he thought himself a fool, I was obviously the bigger one. I had taken his physical advances as a symptom of our unrestrainable attraction to each other, but instead, they were really just expressions of lust, which could have been levied on any convenient girl.

"Is that what you think I am? Do you think I'm just a whore for you to take to your bed?" I demanded to know.

"Jesus Christ, Isabella! You're not listening to me. _You_ are everything that's good and sweet and pure. _I'm_ the one who is tainted and unworthy of your affections. _I'm_ the whore."

Edward slumped down until he was seated on the step. His head fell between his knees, and he wrapped both hands around the back of his neck, yanking at his hair roughly. I stood very still, unsure of my next move. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but at the same time, I felt the need to shield myself from further hurt. After my moment of indecision had passed, I placed my hand on his again to still them before he pulled his hair out.

"Edward, have you been with any one else since that night?"

He shook his head and whispered, "No."

"Do you want to be? Look at me when you tell me," I ordered.

He raised his head and I saw that his green eyes were glassy, as if he was on the verge of tears.

"No, I don't want to be with anyone else."

"I think that we can make this work. If you truly want to change your ways, I'm willing to stand beside you. But I need you to remember that I can still leave whenever I want and I won't hesitate to do so. Do we understand each other?"

EPOV

When I left her that Monday morning, I felt sure that at any moment Jasper or Charles Swan would be arriving at my quarters to challenge me to a duel. I waited there for several hours, nervously smoking cheroots and taking periodic sips from my small bottle of liquid courage.

After some time had passed, I couldn't wait any more. I gathered my equipment and walked down to the fencing school I had begun frequenting. In Chicago, I had wiled away many hours practicing my skills with my friends and had grown to be quite an accomplished fencer, so upon my arrival in New Orleans, one of my first goals was to find another school. A fellow named Emmett Cullen was the head teacher at this school. He was a tall, well-built man with brown hair, blue eyes and an inviting charm. He also wiped the floor with me every time we fenced against each other.

"Edward, you're quite wound up today. I don't think I've ever seen you parry and thrust with such vigor. It's too bad you still can't seem to win the match," Emmett teased when we had finished our session.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a long drink of water before replying. "I had some pent up energy to work out."

"Pent up energy, eh? What, are you suffering from woman trouble?" He asked, obviously amused.

"Something like that. I let my father talk me into this arrangement with a free colored girl. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"You mean plaçage?"

I nodded my head. "I'm a little nervous about it. I'm not used to having anyone depend on me. Do you have a girl?"

"I've got a wife, and that's plenty enough for me. Why don't you find some nice girl to marry, especially if you're not sure about this girl?"

"It's not the girl I'm not sure of, it's me. The girl's perfect, couldn't ask for better, and I've never really been interested in getting married. So, your wife wouldn't like it if you kept a girl as well?"

Emmett's usually jovial expression changed suddenly, and he gave me a hard look. "No, Edward, she wouldn't, and I couldn't do that to my Rosie. Not to mention, my mother would surely beat me within an inch of my life. Maybe you ought to think a little harder before you decide to take this girl on. You won't ever be able to marry her and that's just not fair for her."

"Huh, the way my father made it sound, it seemed like every one around here did it."

"I'm not saying they don't, a lot of them do, it's just not something I would ever do. It could be the Yank coming out in me," Emmett explained.

"You weren't born here?" I asked.

"I was actually born in a little town outside of Chicago. My father and mother are both from there, but they came down here when I was still a baby," Emmett clarified.

I left soon after and returned to my quarters to bathe and dress. I looked through my messages and saw nothing amiss. I was beginning to wonder if Isabella's house slave would actually keep her mouth shut and not tell all to her master.

Emmett's words were bouncing around in my head, causing me to reconsider everything about the arrangement. I kept thinking that he was right; Isabella would be better off with a man who was free to marry her. I looked at the clock and realized that Jasper would probably be arriving shortly and would want me to accompany him to the LaPierre cottage. I decided that I couldn't face Isabella again without figuring out what to do. Quickly, I threw some clothes and toiletries together and called for one of the hotel boys to fetch me a horse. Riding hard and exchanging horses several times, I made it to Evergreen in two days, arriving late on Wednesday.

When I rode up to the main house, lights blazed brightly from the interior. Throwing the reigns to a stable boy and leaving directions for my baggage to be delivered to my rooms, I marched up the walk and strode into the large entrance hall. The front rooms were empty, but I heard loud peals of laughter echoing from the back of the house. I made my way toward the sounds and threw open the door to the dining room. After two days of strenuous travel, the last thing I wanted to see was James, Victoria and Laurent, using the dining room table as a prop for their bizarre sex games. I made a mental note to have all the furniture replaced after I finally rid Evergreen of James and his compatriots.

"Monsieur Masen, how splendid of you to arrive so unexpectedly! Perhaps you'd like to join us this evening," James inquired excitedly, not even breaking stride as he pumped into Victoria from behind.

I turned quickly, slamming the door shut behind me and making haste to reach my bedchamber. I took the steps two at a time and arrived to find a young boy dropping off my bags. I asked him to find someone to draw me a bath, and paced the floor while I waited. After the large tub had been filled with heated water, I stripped off my clothes, which were filthy from the trip and sank my tired body into the water. I was physically exhausted, but my mind found no rest. My thoughts wandered to what was going on downstairs and I was filled with disgust. My only hope was that James' father was too far gone in his illness and isolated in his back bedroom to realize what was occurring in his former home.

That night, I lay in my bed and suffered through another sleepless night. I thought back to Sunday night with Isabella and remembered the ease with which I slept beside her; how comfortable I was all wrapped up around her soft body. When I had awoken the next morning, I was shocked not only by the presence of the house slave in the room, but also by the fact that I had slept so heavily and dreamlessly.

At Evergreen that morning, I was sitting behind my desk and poking at my breakfast when a knock at my bedroom door disturbed the silence. Before I could answer, the door opened and James waltzed into the room, smiling cheerily. I was immediately suspicious and on my guard. Skipping past the chairs, he perched next to me on the desk.

"Monsieur LaFontaine, there are perfectly acceptable chairs right over there. If you insist on speaking with me this morning, please sit in one," I requested, my skin crawling from his nearness to me.

"I know, but right here will do," he responded cheekily. "Edward, may I call you Edward?"

"No, that implies a level of association I prefer not to have with you."

"You're certainly grumpy this morning. You're not still upset about what happened at the ball are you?"

"Stay away from her and I won't need to be," I answered while scooting as far from him as the space allowed.

"Monsieur Masen," he began, his hand reaching out and grasping mine where it lay on the arm of my chair, "You and I are not so different. I don't understand why you're fighting your nature so much. Come downstairs and join us. I'm sure that we could show you as good a time as any of those sporting houses you frequent."

I tried to pull my hand out from under his, but his grasp tightened painfully. His smile turned from faux innocence to an icy smirk. "I promise, you won't regret it. I recognize you for what you are and I know what you need. We'll be in the parlor most of the morning. Come down and see us." He let go of my hand and slid off the desk before making his way to the door.

A shiver coursed through my body and I reached under the desk to grab the refuse container where I promptly deposited the little bit of food I had eaten along with a helping of painfully acidic bile. I rose from my chair and stumbled over to the pitcher and basin to wash my face and mouth. Glancing in the wall-mounted mirror, I looked at myself. I mean, _really _looked at myself. My skin was ashen and dark circles rimmed my eyes. Beads of sweat were forming at my temples and along my hairline. What had I been doing to myself? When James looked at me, did he really see me as similar to him? That thought generated an immense amount of disgust with my actions and how I had been handling my life. Grasping the small table that the pitcher and basin sat upon, I leaned down and hung my head, unable to handle the truths that were staring back at me from the mirror, and I experienced an emotion I hadn't felt in so long, shame.

The sound of shrieking broke me from my self-loathing revelry. I turned and looked out the window, but didn't spy anything amiss. I exited the room and made my way downstairs, but couldn't locate the source of the shrieking in the house. I went out the back door through the summer kitchen and if I had anything left in my stomach, I would have thrown up again. There, tied by her hands to a tree, a slave girl, naked from the waist up, was being lashed by Victoria while Laurent stood by chuckling. All three were facing away from me, and didn't see my approach. When Victoria next threw back her whip, I reached her in time and grabbed a hold of her arm, preventing her from striking the girl again.

She turned to me in shock before smiling lasciviously. "Monsieur Masen, how kind of you to come down. Would you like a turn?"

"What the fuck are you two doing? How dare you touch my property in this manner?" I was absolutely furious. If she hadn't been a woman, I would have turned the whip on her.

"Correction, my dear, Monsieur Masen. The plantation you may own, but I hold the papers for every slave on this land," James pitched in from behind me.

I swung around to face him, regretting for a second that I had left my brand new, top of the line Smith and Wesson handgun upstairs. I had been waiting for an excuse to use it, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to see his brains spill from his cracked skull.

"How fucking dare you treat another human being this way. What is her crime, that she is being treated so barbarously?"

"Crime? I don't know that she's committed one. Victoria just gets a little…jealous some times. She doesn't like it when I've sought attention elsewhere, do you darling?" He looked over my shoulder and addressed the last part to Victoria. She nodded to him and shrugged her shoulders, an impish expression on her face. Behind her, the caramel skinned girl turned slightly and looked at all of us gathered behind her. Her strawberry blonde hair was matted to her face with tears, and as my eyes trailed down her exposed flesh, I could see the unmistakable roundness to her abdomen. If I thought I was disgusted before, the feeling was now intensified a hundred-fold.

As I plotted my next move, the three of them closed in on me. Laurent ambled over slowly, while James came up stealthily behind me. Victoria held the whip tightly in her hand and pulled it closely to her body in preparation. Knowing that I couldn't take on the three of them with no weapon, I decided to appeal to James' empty pockets.

"How much for her? In fact, how much for the lot of them? Sell me every single soul on this plantation. I want them all, and I want this behavior to cease immediately."

James pursed his lips together and appeared to be considering my offer. After several tense seconds, he answered, "Alright, but I want market value plus twenty percent for each one, and there are more than two hundred slaves on this plantation."

Quickly calculating that in my head, I knew that that amount of money would make James a fairly tidy sum, and leave me a much poorer man. "Fine, fair market value, plus twenty-five percent if you pack your things and leave this plantation entirely, never to set foot on it again," I decided.

"But my father…"

"I don't give a fuck about your father any more. You've exhausted my patience. Tell him anything, I don't care, but get off my land!"

A smile swept over James' face. "I'll send my lawyer to call on your banker. I trust you can have the money ready for me in a few days time?" I nodded. "Good, I'll sign them all over to you and vacate the premises as soon as the money is transferred to me."

I brushed past Victoria and untied the bound hands of the slave girl. Without the tension of the rope to support her, she slumped to the ground in a heap. I had no idea what had happened to the rest of her clothes, and hoped she wouldn't be too uncomfortable with me picking her up. I tried to avoid touching the open lashes on her back, but couldn't entirely. She stiffened in my arms and cried out. As gently as I could, I carried her past the smirking Victoria, and gave James and Laurent wide berth.

When I re-entered the summer kitchen, I found an old slave woman trying to make herself inconspicuous by hiding in the pantry. Slowly dropping the girl onto a kitchen chair, I yelled out to the old woman to clean her up and find her a shirt. Next, I found the young boy and asked him to repack my things and tell the stable hand to ready a horse for me and a separate carriage for the girl and himself. When all was arranged, I made sure that the girl and the young boy had departed ahead of me, with a signed affidavit that they were lawfully travelling to the city and were not to be molested, or prevented from arriving by any lawmen or nosy folks on the way. The trip would take the carriage a day or two longer than it would take me on horseback, so I gave the hired driver explicit directions on where to deliver them when they reached New Orleans, and I headed out onto the road myself.

The two-day trip back left me with ample time to consider what I would do about the whole Isabella situation. I decided to confess to her my many transgressions and leave it up to her as to whether she still wanted to enter into the arrangement with me. Then I decided that I was a fucking idiot, and of course she wouldn't want me any more.

I pushed each horse to its limit, arriving back in the city by mid-day on Saturday. I headed straight for my quarters and sifted through my messages. I had at least ten from Jasper, several from my father and one from Charles Swan. My father's messages were mainly invitations to dine and then some questioning my whereabouts. It's nice he actually noticed I was missing, I thought sarcastically. Jasper's were first kindly, then panicked, and lastly, extremely anger-filled. I left the one from Charles Swan until last. It had come that morning and detailed exactly what was going to happen to me if I didn't show my face at the party, which had apparently been scheduled for that evening in my absence. I winced at his descriptive detail. I preferred to keep my limbs attached and in good, working order, but it seemed that Charles Swan had other plans for them.

I glanced at the clock, and sure enough, I had very little time. I found one of the hotel boys, and instructed him to find a shop and arrange for the delivery of a few pieces of furniture and some basic necessities to Isabella's house. I had realized that if she somehow managed to accept me, the house was still empty and would be no fit place for her to go to that night if I didn't get someone to make it at least habitable. I tipped the boy generously and told him to be quick about it, and while he was out, he should find a girl to give the house a quick clean up.

With that taken care of, I dashed out of my quarters and down the few blocks to the LaPierre cottage. I could see the party was already in full swing. The music carried out onto the street and hordes of people were gathered on the front porch and crammed into the small house.

I looked down and realized I was sweaty and dirty from the road, not to mention, I wanted to find Isabella before Charles Swan found me. I crept down the alley that I had used when I snuck into Isabella's room, and used the overgrown plants to shield myself from sight. When I emerged by the back door, I stilled when I saw Isabella on the bench with a man on one knee before her. Straining to hear over the music, I was still able to listen in on most of their conversation. She said she was in love with me. _With me._ For a moment, I was overjoyed, and then the realization set in. She couldn't possibly be in love with me; she didn't know what kind of person I really was. If I told her, any positive feeling she had for me would surely disappear. I wanted to hide, I wanted to run, but most of all, I wanted to walk over to Isabella and sweep her up into my arms.

When the other man left, I made a bit of noise so that she would notice me behind her. The slanted rays of the afternoon sun shown on her hair and glinted off of her elaborate gown, creating a halo of light around her body. She was beautiful, and I told her so. I could tell from her face and her tone of voice, that she was beyond angry with me. What I was about to tell her was without a doubt going to make it much worse. I stalled and made her squeeze the truth from me, but it was only delaying the inevitable. I could see from the litany of emotions that crossed her face that she was truly and utterly disgusted with me. I dropped down to the step and hid my face from her, waiting for her to tell me to leave and never come back. When she touched me, I burned for her. I wanted to grab her around the legs and grovel at her tiny feet. I answered every question truthfully; I wanted her and no one else. I accepted her terms with absolute understanding. If I was to be with her, I had to change my life, I had to find the way to be a better man, I had to prove that I was more than what I had allowed myself to become.

She clasped her arms around me and held me close, her head resting in the crook of my neck. I felt her nose crinkle and she chuckled lightly. "Edward, you stink," she whispered against my skin.

"I'm sure I do, two days on the road, riding at breakneck speed, will do that to you," I chuckled as well. Feeling a presence behind me, I looked back at the door and was greeted with the sight of a red-faced and angry Charles Swan.

"Monsieur Masen, how kind of you to finally arrive. I'd like a word with you alone. Isabella, please go back inside for a few minutes. Your guests are requesting your presence."

**O M F G-Edward's had an epiphany. Will it last? Is Bella being stupid? Will Charles beat the shit out of Edward and bury him in the backyard? Should Edward have joined in on the dining room table fuckfest? (ummm...if you said yes to that, you may be reading the wrong fic!)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I don't make any money from this. I wish I did cuz I really need some $, maybe I should find a real job.**

**A/N:**

**Holy shit! What's this? An update? Sorry, I had term papers and exams and blah blah blah you don't care lol! And I saw Bobby Long play at my hometown club on 5/5, and I still haven't gotten over it. Really. Never thought I'd wanna be in a 3 way cuz I'm clumsy and someone would get hurt, but I would totes be up for a Rob/Bobby sammich j/s**

**Oh, and I found twitter, the new best way for me to procrastinate (link on my profile) Warning: I'll talk about anything...srsly, I live in the land of TMI...**

**Thanks as always to the lovely Binky for spit shining my chaps for me! I'll be going back and re-uploading older chapters that have now been beta'd-no major changes, just made pretty :)**

**~~~~~~~N S F W~~~~~~~or your panties (or manties as the case may be)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**Edited and re-posted 8/25/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

**BPOV**

Glancing between my father's stony countenance and Edward's wary expression, I didn't move.

"Just a few moments, Bella, that's all I'm asking," my father requested.

Silently, I rose up and moved away from Edward, allowing him to also stand upright and back away from the door. My father stepped out onto the porch and held the door for me to walk back into the cottage. I took one last look at Edward before leaving them alone. He was looking downward, his hands tightly fisting the cloth at his waist. He raised his head and caught my eye, then nodded, encouraging me to leave with his bittersweet smile. The dying rays of the sun glinted off his hair and highlighted the golden tints. His physical beauty, in that moment, was such that I could barely breathe.

Somehow, I managed to stumble into the cottage, and found the two hired girls gorging themselves on snacks in the kitchen. I ordered them to go upstairs and retrieve my trunks. Once that was accomplished, I pushed past some guests without stopping to speak, and found Tyler skulking in a corner.

"Would you be so kind as to bring the carriage about and load my trunks, please?" I asked him. He looked at me strangely, but immediately made his way toward the door.

Moving with single-minded determination, I charged up the staircase and entered my room. The girls were just leaving with the first trunk and I told them that Tyler would have the carriage waiting for them on the street. I grabbed my gloves and checked the mirror while I pinned my rather elaborate and gauzy white hat into my hair, and wrapped my shear, lace shawl around my shoulders. By that time, the girls had reentered the room and were headed for the remaining trunk. My maman came bustling in behind them.

"Isabella Marie LaPierre, care to explain what it is you are doing?"

"I'm preparing to leave, Maman," I answered simply.

She wrung her hands and stared at me for a moment. "I forbid it," she proclaimed, "the party has barely started, and if you leave now you'll upset our guests."

"At this moment, Maman, I care not for the opinion of our guests. You know I'm not one for enjoying parties, and I have decided to leave with Edward immediately."

"This is shocking behavior coming from you, Isabella. You've never defied me before, and since you're a grown lady, I would have thought you'd be able to act like one!"

"It's not my wish to upset anyone, but I _am_ a grown lady, and I have decided to leave of my own accord. Please, step out of the way." Maman's eyes blazed with anger, but after a few tense seconds, she turned and stalked out of the room.

I motioned to the girls, who were standing stock still with fright, to follow me downstairs. When I reached the top of the stairs, I could feel the weight of numerous pairs of eyes on me. The guests had gone quiet, even the band had stopped playing. I hitched up my voluminous skirt and descended the steps slowly, careful not to catch my heels and tumble forward.

After finally reaching the bottom, I made for the front door, staring straight ahead. I tried not to make eye contact with any one, but I couldn't help but notice Alice's sorrowful expression as I glided past her. I felt a twinge of guilt, and hoped I hadn't ruined the evening for her.

I held the door open for the girls, and they emerged from the cottage, handing the trunk to Tyler, who squeezed it in with the other one. I was just about to ask Tyler to go around to the back and tell Edward I was ready to leave, when I recognized the long-legged gait of Edward himself, half-way down the block and retreating quickly.

"Edward?" I shouted. He spun around, an anguished look upon his face. His hands went into his hair and his right foot tapped a staccato rhythm on the earth below him.

Before he had a chance to reply, my father called out from the porch

behind me, "Isabella, I'd like to request that you come back inside."

Maman appeared behind him, Jasper and Alice flanking her, wearing twin expressions of horror.

When I didn't answer, my father asked again, "Please, come back in. It's for the best. I made a mistake agreeing to this arrangement. I've asked around these last few days and what I've heard about Monsieur Masen and his father has done much to discredit both of their characters. I've ripped up the contract and told Masen to be on his way and cease contact with you."

Anger boiled in my veins and it occurred to me that I had been far too acquiescent all these years, always letting others dictate my existence.

"He's right, Bella, you shouldn't love me, I'm not worth it." I hadn't noticed Edward had come closer while my father was talking, and was but a few feet from me.

"Ma petite chouchoute, he can't give you the life you deserve," my father entreated.

Usually, I loved his pet name for me, but at that moment, it only furthered the feeling that he saw me as nothing more than a wayward little girl.

"Get in the carriage, Edward."

"What?" he asked with a stunned expression.

"Get. In. The. Carriage," I demanded.

Edward wavered, glancing between me and my family on the porch.

"Mon Dieux! Get in; it's what I want. Unless of course, you don't want me, then you are free to go. I won't force my company on you."

I hoped he could tell by my face and inflection, just how serious I was.

His lips set in a firm line; Edward turned and launched himself into the carriage. I followed quickly behind him.

"Take us to my new home," I shouted up to Tyler, but the carriage didn't move.

I looked out and saw my father approaching. "Tyler, don't leave. Isabella, get out now and we'll forget this ever happened. We'll find you someone else if you're so anxious to leave."

"I don't want anyone else; I want Edward."

"But you don't know what I know. You don't know about him."

"Ah, but I do know, and I still want him," I interrupted.

My father's crestfallen expression hurt worse than anything else. "Then you're not the girl I thought you were," he replied before turning his back on me and waving Tyler off.

The carriage lunged forward, catching me by surprise and toppling me onto the trunks. My knees struck against them and I yelped in pain. Edward rose unsteadily in the moving carriage, grabbing me at the waist and helping me back against the seat. Before he sat down again, he reached out and clapped his hand against the side of the carriage.

"Tyler, head to the Hotel Maison de Ville first, please," Edward directed.

"Why there?" I asked.

"I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to make sure that your home has been properly outfitted yet, and I'm in desperate need of a bath and a change of clothes. Maybe we'll even spend the night in my quarters."

"Edward, I can't go there."

"It's alright, it's only for one night. We'll get you into your home tomorrow, as soon as I can see that all the necessities are delivered."

"No, really, I can't go there. People of color are not permitted in that hotel," I explained.

"That's ridiculous," Edward growled and kicked petulantly at the trunk, which was crowding his long legs. I raised an eyebrow at his antics and thought about how child-like Edward sometimes seemed.

"I'll just wait in the carriage while you clean up," I suggested.

"I guess that will have to do. I don't want to leave you alone at the house right now; God only knows what would happen if one of your relatives stopped by and had to suffer the wrath of your feisty tongue," Edward replied with a wink and a devilish smirk, "I never know what you're going to do next, my dear girl, you're always surprising me."

Before I could reply, the carriage lurched to a stop and Edward was already making his way out of it. After he had descended to the road, he turned back around, grasping the side of the carriage with one hand and using his other to motion me closer with his slender fingers. I slid across the seat as gingerly as possible in my ungainly gown, and stuck my head out of the carriage. I watched as Edward's smirk morphed into a broad smile and his warm hand met the crook of my neck. He tugged lightly, bringing my lips within reach of his own. I closed my eyes, believing a kiss was imminent. After I counted ten shallow breathes and nothing had happened, I opened my eyes to find his positively twinkling with barely concealed glee. With a quick intake of breathe, his lips covered mine, kissing me soundly and enthusiastically. I surrendered entirely to his oral ministrations, and both of my hands rose up to fist his damp curls.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Edward pulled away from me, gently easing my fingers out of his hair.

"I'll hurry back to you, my dear girl. I promise, I won't make you wait long." He turned and headed down the side street, which led to the garconnières.

The sun had set and darkness blanketed the city. Since I was now alone with my thoughts, I had time to ponder the day's events. From the hustle and bustle of the morning preparations, to the feelings of desolation, which Edward's non-appearance had caused, and the sting I felt deep in my chest at my father's disappointment, the day had exhausted me. I leaned my head against the interior frame of the carriage and dozed lightly.

I don't know how long I slept, but I must have been good and out because the next thing I remember was being engulfed in the warmth of Edward's arms, while his fresh, clean scent filled the carriage. I snuggled in close to him, feeling safe in his embrace.

The carriage clattered slowly toward our destination, and I hoped that there would at least be some place decent in the house for us to sleep that night. Sleep, would Edward want to, or would he want to do something else? And if he did want to do something else, did I want to do something else? Edward moved slightly and my head fell from his shoulder to the crook of his neck. I ran the tip of my nose along his throat and breathed him in, before placing a few soft kisses on the skin I found there. Yes, I would definitely be up for something else.

"Isabella, you should sleep. I'm sure that you're beyond tired from everything that happened today," Edward said while cupping my chin in his hand and drawing my lips away from his neck.

Within moments, the carriage stopped again, and Edward was half out of the door. I tried to follow him, but found that in the cramped space, my lower limbs had gone to sleep and I pitched forward, very nearly falling out of the door. Thankfully, Edward caught me before I could damage myself too much, and hoisted me over his shoulder. Instead of putting me down right away, he marched right up to the house. Too tired to struggle, I giggled profusely and saw Tyler behind us, trying to suppress a smile.

When we reached the door, Edward used his left hand to locate the hidden key on the doorframe while trying to keep me steady with his right hand. My voluminous skirts hampered the process and we swayed precariously for a moment before Edward secured the key and opened the door. Since I was practically upside down, I couldn't see anything at first. Edward walked a few paces into the room and lowered me onto my feet, his hand sliding slowly from my rear to the back of my neck. We stood that way, pressed close together, for a moment until he released me.

"I'm going to help Tyler bring the trunks in," he said as he retreated toward the door.

I looked around the room and found it fairly empty, but decently clean. A long, low sofa graced the far wall and a small end table was situated next to it, with a lone oil lamp sitting atop it. I wandered around the first floor and found each room dark and vacant. Approaching one of the many large windows, I looked out into the back yard, but could see little in the dim light. My mind drifted through the day's events again, and I released a heavy sigh.

"Have you changed your mind? I can always escort you back home," Edward whispered close to my ear, startling me. The disturbance in the air caused the curls at my neck to stir and sent a ripple of anticipation through my body.

"No, this is my home now," I answered as I spun around to face him.

"We've taken the trunks upstairs and Tyler has headed back to the cottage. There's a bed made up in the front bedroom. I know how tired you are, so if you'd like to retire for the night, it's ready for you."

I placed my hands on his lapels and ran them up and down in a gesture that was meant to be soothing, though it seemed to have the opposite effect as his breathing sped up.

"Will you be retiring as well?" I questioned, curious as to his plans for the rest of the evening.

He cocked his head to the side and allowed his eyes to scan me from bottom to top. A slow smirk overtook his face and I was momentarily dazzled by the twinkle, which lit his eyes. "Do you want me to?"

A million thoughts and feelings ran through my mind, but in the end, it was my body that spoke for me. Standing on my tiptoes, I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled his lips to mine. The kiss was slow and sensual, and when we broke apart, we were both breathless.

"I think I would like that very much."

I turned and walked out of the room, Edward's footsteps trailing behind me.

"Wait," he called to me when I reached the staircase, "let me fetch the lamp for you."

I could hear him strike the match and light the lamp, the sounds echoing through the otherwise silent house. The lamp created ghostly shadows on the walls and bathed his form in an otherworldly light as he approached the stairwell. Edward went first, holding the lamp high and grabbing for my hand with his empty one.

From the stairwell, I could see several closed doors, and one which hung open. It was to the open door that he proceeded. When we had entered the room, I saw my trunks on the floor, as well as several packages that must have belonged to Edward. The biggest bed I had ever seen sat in the middle of the front wall, between two windows, which doubled as doors to the balcony. A dresser was located against the left wall, and on it was a pitcher and basin. Edward left the lamp on top of the dresser and picked up the pitcher.

"I think I'll just get some water," Edward announced before leaving the room. He almost sounded nervous.

I popped the lid to the first trunk and gathered the nightdress and robe that had been made specifically for this night. Taking them with me, I went into the dressing room, which was empty except for the shelves and hooks adorning the walls and waiting to be covered in dresses, hats and shoes. I slowly and carefully removed my hat and then my gown, my petticoats, hoop cage, stockings, shoes, and finally, my chemise and pantaloons. I stood there naked for a time, just letting my skin breathe after being covered for hours under so many layers. I stretched out my arms and legs, wiggled my toes and reached for the ceiling, in an effort to revive my tired limbs. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I pulled the satin nightdress over my head and slipped my arms into the matching, floor-length robe. The robe tied up the front in a series of pink lace bows, and I did them all up before creeping back into the bedroom. Oddly, Edward had not yet returned and so I went over to the doorway and quietly called out his name. The sound of my voice reverberated loudly down the empty stairwell and made me jump nervously. I heard a muffled cough, followed by a near silent, "On my way," from down below.

Edward mounted the stairs, the pitcher gripped firmly in both hands. I backed up into the center of the room and waited for him to enter. When he did, he first returned the now full pitcher to the dresser and then leaned against it, his eyes toward the floor, watching his foot roll back and forth. It seemed neither of us knew what to do next, and the space between us was tinged with awkwardness.

Suddenly feeling very uncertain of myself, I turned away from him and faced the moonlit window. The floorboards creaked behind me, and I soon felt Edward's hot breath on my ear. His fingertips danced lightly across my shoulders and down my arms, causing me to shiver and hold my breath. Next, his right hand came up and hovered over the lace ties on my robe.

"You're wrapped up like a present; a present I'm not worthy to receive," he whispered in my ear.

A moment later, the heat from his body, which had been radiating against my back, was gone, but I was too flustered to look around. I shut my eyes and listened to his boots tap softly as he circled me like I was prey, and he the hungry predator. He halted behind me again, and I could feel him gently tugging the combs and pins loose from my hair. My heavy locks fell soundlessly against my back, and after it was all down, he pressed tender kisses against it. Using his hands to lift it off my neck, he nuzzled it there, and dare I say, sniffed it, before letting out a deep and sensuous growl. I dared not open my eyes, lest I be overcome by his raw and overpowering sexuality.

I felt him circle around again, this time, untying the first bow. He continued like that, circling and untying one at a time, until the robe swung open completely. The satin material slipped slowly down my shoulders, draping around my elbows. With one more circle, he tugged at the back of the robe and it fell down, pooling at my feet.

Edward grasped the small straps of my nightdress and slid it too, off my arms and onto the floor. A small gasp escaped me as I realized I now stood before him entirely uncovered.

"Is-a-bell-a," he sang my name like a song, "do you want me to touch you?"

I nodded, too hypnotized to speak.

"Open your eyes, my dear girl, I want to know that you want this."

I allowed my eyes to flutter open, and I latched my gaze onto his. His hand rose up and cupped my cheek, his thumb caressing my lips with a velvet touch. Very aware of my state of undress, my arms swung up to cover my bosom.

"Tsk tsk, now is not the time for modesty," he said as he clasped my hand in his and led me toward the giant bed. I trembled under his touch, and followed him with unsure, stilted motions. He patted the side of the bed and I crawled up onto it.

"Lay back and get comfortable; we're going to be here for awhile," he commanded, grinning wickedly.

I did as he said, situating myself in the middle of the bed, a pillow tucked under my head. Edward crawled up after me and kneeled by my feet, his wide, green eyes appraising my form. He stripped off his coat and threw it on the floor, before pulling his suspenders off his shoulders and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"I should warn you, I've never done this before, but I've…seen it done, and from what I can tell, it's extremely enjoyable."

His words confused me. What did he mean, 'he'd never done this before'? He'd already admitted to bedding numerous women.

"Just stay very still, don't move," he requested while simultaneously grabbing me by the hips and pulling me forward, so that my legs bent at the knees and fell open.

I gasped in surprise, which quickly turned to pleasure, when his lips met the inside of my thigh. I felt him chuckle there, as he continued to press soft kisses against my sensitive skin. His tongue crept out and started lapping lazy circles, closer and closer to the spot between my legs that was suddenly begging for his attention. Unfortunately, he skipped that spot all together, and shifted his mouth to the inside of my other thigh. I squirmed in a very unladylike manner, and squeaked in disappointment.

"Shhhhh." His admonition did nothing to quell my desire; in fact, the feel of his breath on me only wound me up further. I continued squirming, my thighs trying to close and rub together.

Edward moved away from me, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a firm line.

"It's to your benefit to be patient, Isabella. Relax, good things come to those that wait," he laughed as if enjoying some joke I missed. I didn't see what was so funny; I certainly didn't think this was the time for useless aphorisms.

I was so busy being indignant, I didn't notice his hand slide up until it was already caressing my center. Any argument I was about to spout was replaced by quiet moans instead. I hazarded a look at Edward's face and was transfixed by his expression of wonderment. He licked his lips and watched his fingers glide over my slick skin. My legs shook every time he passed over the nub, and a deep groan escaped me when one finger found its way to my entrance. He circled it tentatively, but pressed inside me when my hips rose to meet it.

Within a few strokes, he added a second finger and I felt absurdly full, but continued to meet his gentle thrusts. I heard his breathing turn heavy, and noticed his left hand stroke the front of his trousers. I was extremely curious as to what a man looked like without his clothes. I knew they were made differently, but I had never seen how.

Abruptly, Edward's fingers were gone, and I refocused my gaze on his face, wondering why. He raised his glistening fingers to his mouth, and swirled his tongue around them, slowly and thoroughly removing every trace of my taste. It seemed to me, that I had just witnessed something so depraved, so animalistic, and so …completely arousing. I felt the deep blush start at my ears and descend across my entire body, accompanied by a violent shiver.

"Nectar of the gods, Isabella," Edward proclaimed, the cheeky grin returning.

"Are you a pagan, now?" I sputtered.

"Yes, but I seek only to worship at _your_ altar."

As soon as he was finished speaking, he dropped to his elbows and unceremoniously lowered his mouth to my center; there was no teasing this time. His mouth and tongue set a fevered pace, working my body with skilled precision. With the return of his two fingers to my entrance, I gasped and trembled, bucking against his face in an unseemly manner, and chanting his name like he was _my _religion. When he flattened his tongue and rolled it against my tender nub, his fingers curling and finding some secret place inside me, I couldn't hold on any longer. My body convulsed in spasms of intense pleasure.

Edward's movements slowed and then stopped, allowing me to catch my breath and glory in the afterglow. He slipped his fingers from me and backed away, rising again to his knees. I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, along with his under shirt, and tossed them onto the floor with our other clothes. He looked around for a minute before reaching behind me and grabbing another pillow. With the sudden proximity of my face to his chest, I couldn't deny myself. My tongue snuck out and lapped at his warm, salty flesh.

A shiver shook him and his voice cracked when he begged, "Please, Isabella, I'm trying to be gentle with you, but it won't end up that way if you keep doing things like that."

Edward leaned back and thrust the pillow under my hips, shifting it around and asking if I was comfortable. After I assured him I was fine, he rolled off the bed and dropped his trousers, and then his under drawers. I didn't get much more than a quick peek before he was back on the bed, on his knees and looming over me.

"You're sure this is what you want? This can't be undone, you do realize?"

I rose up on my elbows to get a clearer view. "Do you mind telling me what it is exactly, that you're going to do?"

A momentary expression of disbelief flashed across his face. "You don't know?"

I timidly shook my head.

"Shit," he mumbled, looking anywhere but in my eyes. "I need to get this," he pointed down to his man-parts, "into here," his fingers brushed across my entrance.

I could feel my eyes widen considerably as I took in the size of his man-parts. "Oh."

"Don't get nervous, it will be much more difficult if you are, at least that's what I've heard."

"What you've heard?" I repeated.

"Honestly, I've never been with a girl who hadn't already done this, many times, probably."

"Oh."

"Shit," he muttered again, "this is coming out all wrong."

"Listen," he started, laying down beside me, "I want to make this good for you; I don't want to hurt you. We can make this work together, but you're going to have to help me. Are you willing to do that?" I nodded slowly.

"Okay, then relax and follow my lead."

His mouth dropped to my neck, gently licking and sucking from my jaw down to my collarbones. He shifted his body so that he was nestled between my legs, but far enough down that his belly rested against my hips.

Edward's mouth proceeded on its downward path, with his hands running up over my ribcage, and they both met at my breasts. While his fingers kneaded and tenderly squeezed, his lips and tongue licked and flicked my raised nipples. I couldn't help but think of where his mouth had been just a short time ago, and felt my excitement growing once again. My hips began to roll and grind against Edward's torso, my head lolled back against the pillows, and my chest pushed forward, encouraging him to continue.

He did continue, and for quite some time. He was drawing me out, enticing me, sliding his body across all the right places. Finally, with a look of fierce determination in his eyes, he crawled up my body and covered my lips with his. For the first time, I felt him hard and hot, nudging into my slick entrance. I drew my knees up, trying to create as much room as possible. Beads of sweat formed on Edward's brow, and he appeared to have stopped breathing entirely. The clearly defined muscles of his chest and arms strained with the effort it took for him to go slow and steady.

Edward's hand drifted down to our juncture, and he grasped himself, covering the head in my wetness and then gradually, achingly, slipping it inside of me until he met resistance.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded, simultaneously shifting his hips and forcing himself the rest of the way in.

I couldn't help but cry out, the pain was swift and shocking. Edward immediately stilled on top of me, his breaths coming out in great gusts. Unshed tears blurred my vision and burned at the corner of my eyes. I felt his left hand grab my thigh and pull it close to his side, his fingers caressing and massaging from my knee to my hip, while his lips kissed and hummed against my neck.

Slowly, the pain subsided to the level of mild discomfort. Edward stayed still inside of me, but his body began to shake with the effort. Carefully, I rolled my hips and pressed up into him. He exhaled heavily and just as carefully, pressed back into me, waiting for my reaction. When I didn't stop him or cry out again, he must have taken that as a sign that it was all right to continue.

Edward moved in and out of me for several minutes, and while it was still uncomfortable, it became much more bearable, and toward the end, almost pleasurable. His rhythm eventually sped up, and he began to moan and mumble into my neck, where his face was buried. With another shift of his hips, he removed himself from inside of me, and I felt him, warm and wet, pulsating on my belly.

Neither one of us moved for a moment, but after a while, Edward raised his head from my neck and stared into my eyes.

"Isabella, when I get up, please don't look down. There's bound to be blood and I don't want you to see it and be frightened. It's perfectly normal, but let me get you cleaned up first, okay?"

He waited for me to nod, and when I did, he rolled off of me.

As I promised, I kept my eyes on the ceiling and didn't look down. I heard him shuffling around the room, digging in the trunks and pouring water into the basin. When he came back to the bed, I felt him soothingly washing me down, removing the stickiness from my stomach and between my legs. I could feel my ears burning as another blush covered my face.

"I hope you never lose this," he said as his fingers drifted over my rosy red cheekbones.

I watched him retrieve his under drawers from the floor and he quickly yanked them on before climbing back into the bed with me. I helped him pull the bed sheets down and I scrambled swiftly under them. We both lay on our sides, Edward right behind me, with his arm draped loosely across mine. The last thing I remember before falling asleep, were his fingers working their way into my hair and massaging my scalp, and his lips faintly touching my neck. I also could have sworn I felt him sniffing me again, but I must have been mistaken.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I get nothing from doing this...monetarily speaking. SM gets it all, money, power, prestige, the chance to share Rob's airspace. I obviously pissed someone off in a former life. At least I didn't come back as a bug. Ewwww.**

****

**A/N**

**Wow...holy reviews for the last chapter. You h00rs really like your smut ;)**

**So this is fairly fluffy...or as fluffy as I get. It would have been faster, but I was roped into 4 days of family gatherings this past holiday wknd. If I never see another grilled hotdog, it'll be too soon. And I had to read the last chapter of MoTU hiding in my MIL's garage. I have no dignity.**

Edited and re-posted 8/26/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)

**EPOV**

I couldn't believe I was lying there next to her.

After everything that had happened that day, I had fully expected to be cursing my existence and drowning my sorrows at Madame Renault's. This was certainly a much more preferable turn of events.

I couldn't keep my hands and face out of her hair. It was soft, but unbelievably thick, heavy and fragrant. I played with it, looping it around my fingers and pulling it straight, only to let it go and watch it re-curl.

She slept heavily, never once stirring or shifting position and I watched her all through the night. I hadn't slept in days, but I was still too keyed up from all the opium I had consumed on the ride back to New Orleans. My body was incredibly tired, but my mind was super alert, running through every minute of the last twelve hours. I relived the joy I felt when she wrapped her arms around me on the back porch of the cottage, quickly followed by the devastation of her father's proclamation that I never set foot near his daughter again. I couldn't blame him. If it had been my daughter, I wouldn't want a man like me involved with her either. He was right; I was untrustworthy, dangerous, a liar, gambler, and whore-chaser. Just like my father, just like James.

I winced as I thought about the last time I had seen James and his associates. I would never allow myself to become like them. My father was another story. My life was interwoven with his. He was my only surviving parent, the man who had provided for me and moulded me into the man that I had become. No, not just moulded, I was truly his doppelganger, the spitting image of him in my actions, if not in actual physical appearance. As much as he frustrated and angered me on occasion, I never doubted his affection for me. But he didn't belong in Isabella's world. I would have to keep the two worlds separate, be the man that Isabella needed me to be, while keeping my father happy, and most importantly, out of my affairs.

The light of the breaking dawn streamed through the windows and glinted off a tendril of Isabella's hair as I raised it, showing me a glimpse of a red highlight. She shifted minutely, causing the sheet to dip and reveal the dark pink of her nipple set against the paleness of her breast. Unconsciously, my knees came up and I nestled in closer, my hard cock resting on her lower back. Images of the night before flashed through my mind, her nipples under my fingertips, in my mouth, on the tip of my tongue. The way she responded to my touch, unafraid, excited and craving more. There were so many times I had to stop myself from finishing before I even got inside of her.

When I had returned to the room with the pitcher of water, I was intent upon getting her into bed to sleep and nothing more. I could tell she was dead on her feet and probably overwrought with emotion from the break with her parents, but when I stood before her, I couldn't find my words. Her scent filled the air and drove me mad with desire. Her form, partially hidden by the satin gown, was naturally curvaceous and alluring. After she turned her back to me, I tried to keep my distance, but my body drew me forward, and I found myself standing flush to her back. My hands hovered over her, almost too timid to touch. I wanted to see all of her, feel her body crushed to mine, swallow her satisfied sighs with my mouth. I circled her, hungrily eating up every delectable detail of her body. Loosening her hair from its elaborate bondage, I watched it fall across her back in jumbled waves. Once again, I assured myself I was just getting her more relaxed and ready to sleep. Then her concentrated scent whirled up from her hair and I couldn't help but bury my face in it. I was intoxicated by her, her body, her smell, and the little sounds she made which betrayed her arousal.

I decided her nightclothes had to go. After all, the night was warm; she'd be more comfortable sleeping that way. But then she was naked, naked and quite obviously trembling with desire. Sleeping could wait.

I led her to the bed and watched her nimbly crawl up at my bidding. This afforded me a glorious view of her backside, round and plump, perfect for grabbing and squeezing. She settled against the pillows, in the middle of the bed. The sight of her made my imagination run wild, and all sorts of delicious possibilities presented themselves to me. I had to remind myself that she had no experience and some of my more _interesting_ ideas would have to wait. One thought stood out to me however, and I decided it would not only pleasure her, but also help to ready her in case we did happen to make love. Oh, and the very idea of having her taste on my tongue made me want to burst through my trousers. The only problem was I'd never actually done that before; you just didn't do that sort of thing with whores and dancing girls. No man wanted to put their mouth where ten other men had probably already been that night.

I pulled her forward and proceeded with caution. I didn't know what her reaction would be, but I certainly hoped it would be positive. As it turned out, positive didn't even cover it. She wanted my mouth on her, badly, just as much as I wanted it. I teased her, watching her wiggle and squirm, her breasts jiggling and tempting me with their voluptuousness. When she began to look irritated with my teasing, I slipped one, then two fingers inside of her. She was delightfully warm and wet, her body eager for more. I could barely wait to get inside of her, but I knew she wasn't ready yet. It wouldn't be pleasant for her the first time, and I wanted to make sure that she was well taken care of before I took her.

Reaching down, I ran my hand over my cock, trying to ease my frustration a bit, and wondering why the hell I had got into this bed without taking off my damn trousers first. I saw how slick my fingers had become, and I could wait no longer to sample her flavour. I brought them to my lips, and practically devoured my own hand. I caught a glimpse of Isabella's face and saw a strange mix of fear and desire there. Reassuring her that she was the only one that I wanted, I settled onto my forearms, slid my hands under her shapely thighs and began to tongue her heated flesh.

Isabella's soft cries and heavy breathing filled the room, arousing me beyond belief. I attempted to relieve my throbbing cock by flexing my hips and grinding against the mattress.

I flicked my tongue this way and that, memorizing the places that seemed to excite her the most. When her hips began to rotate rhythmically, I sunk my fingers back inside her, stretching and curling them in an attempt to further ready her. Within moments, she was coming loudly, my name dripping from her lips again and again, as well as several French phrases I was unfamiliar with, but it all sounded ridiculously sensual to my ears, and nearly drove me over the edge. Maybe I could convince her to give me a tutorial on dirty French phrases another time….

I released her slowly, the limpness of her limbs betraying her complete satisfaction. After divesting myself of my shirt and undershirt, I then sat back, analyzing the situation and deciding the best way to proceed. Analyzing anything is practically impossible when there's a very naked and very well pleased woman splayed out in front of you, with her eyes trained on your incredibly hard cock. Quickly, I leaned over her to grab a pillow, but before I could move back, Isabella's sly pink tongue slipped out and licked my chest from my diaphragm to the base of my neck.

It was all I could do to stop myself from holding her down and ravishing her right then.

After I had sufficiently recovered my senses, I pushed the pillow underneath her, raising her pelvis and giving me easier access. Jumping off the bed, I whisked off my trousers and under-drawers, before quickly crawling back up to her. I thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do, so I asked her if she was sure, giving her one more out before I forever changed her. I was both shocked and pleasantly refreshed when she had to ask for clarification, namely, what the hell was about to happen to her. Of course, I started rambling nonsense about other girls and oversimplifying the act we were about to engage in. Where did my ability to stay calm under pressure go? I figured she'd probably slap me, but my always surprising Isabella, simply waited calmly for me to continue.

I decided distraction would be my best strategy, that and I really wanted to get my eager hands on her breasts. Full, firm and a bit more than a handful, they were absolutely perfect. I would have gladly stayed worshipping them forever, but Isabella's rolling hips, and my straining cock had other ideas.

I advanced upon her, latching my lips to hers and brushing against her heated and slippery cunt for the first time with no clothing between us. With as much control as I could muster, I pushed into her, guiding my cock with the aid of my hand, and concentrating on not coming too early. It was hard. Very, very hard. She was so wet, but still so tight and…god damned virginal. I had never felt anything like it. Not only physically, but it truly felt like she was taking _me_, and that I'd never be the same. I was so afraid I was going to hurt her, but it was unavoidable. I thrust the rest of the way in, my heart sinking when I heard her scream. As difficult as it was, I remained still and waited for her to push me off or yell at me, but she did neither of those things; she stayed as still as me, which was just as worrying. I wanted to make it better, but I didn't know what to do, offering comfort was not an action I had a lot of experience with. I dropped my face to her neck and started humming a soothing tune while drawing her thigh close to me and gently kneading it. My body shook, demanding that I continue, but I waited for her signal, and when she pushed against me, I finally allowed myself to push back. I knew there was no way that it would feel good for her, so I tried to finish as quickly as possible, feeling guilty for all the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body.

I wasn't sure how to handle…the end. I didn't even consider wearing a sheath, as those were reserved for whores and I wouldn't insult Isabella like that, nor could I imagine attempting to explain its purpose to her. At the last minute, I simply pulled out, spilling my seed on her belly. It wasn't by any means foolproof, but at least it would lower the chance of getting her with child. That was another possibility I didn't want to think about. I had complicated her life so much already; I didn't want to add something, or someone else into the mix.

After begging her not to look down for fear she would panic, I rolled off of her and cleaned myself up before returning to her and bathing her lower half. I felt sick when I saw the physical evidence of what I had done. She had bled, quite a bit. I wasn't at all prepared for the mixed emotions I was feeling. It had been so long since I had allowed myself to feel anything, and now I was feeling _everything_. Lust, disgust, guilt, abject happiness, fear, hope and…something else, all pouring down and crushing me under the deluge. Where do we go from here?

Suddenly, I had to feel her, be close to her, take comfort in the sensation of her warm skin pressed up against my own. I got back into bed as quickly as I could, wrapped myself around her and buried my face in her sweet smelling hair. I wanted to soothe her, say just the right thing, but my mind was going in fifty different directions; it didn't matter after all, she was asleep within seconds.

And so there I was, still wrapped up in her, still no closer to recovering my senses, many hours later.

When the morning light shone full upon her face, her eyes fluttered open, and she stared off into the room. She blinked repetitively, as if trying to remember exactly where she was, but then I felt her wriggle back against me, rubbing my cock and causing me to startle and gasp. She giggled quietly and continued to wriggle until I grabbed her hips and halted her motions.

"Is it always like that?"

"Only around you, devil woman, you've bewitched it!"

"Is that so? And I thought only Alice had the bewitching powers in this generation."

"I don't know what you mean," I muttered while placing soft kisses on her neck.

"There's so much you don't know, Yanqui, but there do seem to be a few things you know well," she answered, amidst another round of giggles.

I growled and bit down, nipping her neck, which resulted in her rubbing back against me with renewed vigor.

"Stop that, you saucy wench! You're putting me in a terrible predicament. How am I supposed to relax if you keep teasing me so?"

"Maybe I don't want you to relax; maybe I'm purposely inciting you?"

"Isabella, you can't be serious, you're going to have to give it a few days at least, or it will hurt, and I don't think I could handle hurting you again."

She huffed and went silent for several minutes, and then unexpectedly, nudged me again.

"Isabella!" I shouted and rolled out of bed.

"I was just curious," she whispered, giving me her best innocent expression.

I circled the bed, arrived at her side, and leaned my hands down onto the mattress.

"Curiosity can be a very dangerous thing, Isabella," I hovered over her and whispered, "Inquisitive little girls such as yourself, are bound to find themselves in a lick," I stopped to tongue her exposed nipple, "of trouble if they continue to poke their…nose where it doesn't belong."

Isabella scooted back from me and drew herself up to her knees. The sheet fell and I was completely distracted by her nakedness.

"My, my, I'd better stay away then. I wouldn't want to feel like I was intruding upon your person," she replied with a smirk.

"Hmm, I think I may have been the one intruding upon you last night, quite literally if I recall."

"If that is so, it's only fair that you allow me retribution."

"What do you have in mind, my dear girl?"

She cocked her head to the side and nibbled her lip, placed her hands on her hips and looked me up and down. I had to brace myself against the headboard to keep from jumping onto the bed and plowing into her.

"What you did last night…when you put your mouth on me…has anyone ever done that to you?" she asked shyly.

A swift vision of James flashed in my mind's eye and I involuntarily winced. Not wanting her to think it had anything to do with her, I spit out a quick reply, "No, it costs extra."

"What?"

Evidently, my ability to control my mouth had still not returned. I wondered if being under Isabella's influence would keep me from being able to fabricate the truth forever, or if it was only a short-term affect. I rolled my eyes at myself and my ever-increasing oral stupidity. I stared at the ceiling and waited for a good explanation to magically enter my brain._ Shockingly_, nothing came to me.

Isabella, however, didn't seem to be waiting for an explanation. She crawled toward me slowly on her hands and knees, until she was directly in front of me, and sat back on her heels. My left hand still gripped the headboard tightly, the wood creaking under the pressure. She reached out and tugged on my under-drawers, and smiled to herself when they dropped to the floor, my suddenly released cock springing up and thwapping against my belly.

"May I touch it?"

I gulped and nodded, never feeling this exposed in my entire life.

She tentatively placed her hand on my lower belly, threading her fingers through the trail of hair, and lightly tickling me, before running her index finger down my length and circling the tip.

"It's so soft, yet so hard…fascinating. How does this happen?"

"Isabella," I raised my brow and grinned, "It's a cock, not a science experiment."

"My apologies, Monsieur," she grinned back at me, "I would never _dare_ to compare your _cock_ with anything so paltry."

Seeing her form the word cock was nearly the end of my control. My legs shook and I groaned, shutting my eyes against the scene. I didn't have long to think on it however, because I soon found myself encased in her warm, wet mouth. Needless to say, I didn't do much thinking at all after that.

I should have been embarrassed at how quickly it was all over. Several flicks of her naturally talented tongue and one hit to the back of her throat, was all it took for me. I didn't even have time to warn her, but she didn't seem to be upset, in fact, she broke into a peal of laughter. That appeared rather rude to me, until I saw what had her so entertained. In my hand, I held the shattered remnant that had once been the bedpost. The headboard also looked somewhat the worse for wear, since it was now showing cracks where my hand had gripped it.

I tossed the post behind me and watched Isabella roll around, giggling and pointing. Launching myself at her, I shouted, "Think that's funny, do you? We'll see about that!"

She skittered back from me, but I grabbed her thighs and threw them open, thrusting my face between her legs and turning her giggles to moans.

After we'd both had our fill, we dozed peacefully until we were abruptly awoken by a heavy knocking at the door. From the strength of the sun's rays through the window, I could tell it was afternoon. I flew out of bed and started throwing on whatever clothes I could find of mine on the floor. Isabella rose up from the bed and started doing the same.

"Stay here and I'll see who it is," I said on my way out of the bedroom.

I really wasn't in the mood for a confrontation and as I swung open the door, I fervently prayed I wouldn't find Charles Swan on the other side. Thankfully, it wasn't him, but the slave boy and girl I had sent down from Evergreen.

"Oh good, you've arrived safely. We're definitely in need of your assistance. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your names before?"

The boy stepped forward, "Seth, and this is Tanya, Michie Masen," he answered.

I moved out of the way and motioned for them to enter. From behind me, I could hear Isabella descending the stairs. When she was within a few feet of us, I spoke again, "Isabella, this is Seth and Tanya, they're here to be your house slaves."

I looked back at her, and saw her face blanche when her gaze lighted upon Tanya.

"Where did they come from, Edward?"

"They're from Evergreen, my plantation upriver. I recently acquired them from James and thought these two would do the best to help you here," I explained.

"But she's…" Isabella flicked her hand toward Tanya's rounded belly.

"Yes, I thought for her sake, it would be best to get her out of the fields and placed here, where I can better look after her."

Isabella's face took on an expression of horror. If she was that upset after my half-truth, I was glad I didn't tell her about what James and Victoria had been doing to Tanya.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Seth here will be quite able to help with anything strenuous and Tanya can handle the household tasks until the baby comes. I don't know anything about babies, but other people certainly seem to like them, I'm sure I'll feel the same about this one," I patted Tanya's belly absent-mindedly and continued to ramble on, unsure of why Isabella's face was turning a strange shade of puce. "We can set them up in their own rooms since we have so many empty ones. Seth can have the small room at the back of the house, and Tanya can take the one upstairs next to ours, that way she'll be close by whenever we need her. Would that be satisfactory?"

She nodded her head slightly and turned around, heading back upstairs without another word. I was fairly mystified by her reaction, but shrugged it off, believing that hunger and exhaustion were likely to blame.

Recalling that there was no food in the house, I gave Seth and Tanya some bills from my billfold and directed them to go down to the French Market and gather as much food and supplies as they could carry. Pointing them in the right direction and sending them on their way, I silently congratulated myself on how unexpectedly well this was all going, and raced upstairs to check on Isabella, and possibly grope her some more while we were still alone.

**Gee, what's poor Bella thinking? *giggles***

**And Edward is clueless...as usual.**

*****PSA***the pull-out method is NOT reliable BC (except 4 me, but that's cuz I have a hostile womb which must be pounded into submission in many interesting and frequent ways in order 4 me to get knocked up-not as fun as it sounds btw). I am not responsible for any of your babies. This is the 21st century, you've got options they don't have :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I am simply borrowing fictional characters developed and created by Stephenie Meyer. She gets all the $. However, this is my storyline and I expect that to be respected ie: come up with your own if you want to write fanfic. **

**A/N**

**Ah, so much news...where to start?**

**Readergoof made me a beautiful banner which I gaze at daily (link on my profile)**

**twicrack83 gave the story a lovely shout out in her story, Witness Protection, thanks, bb :)**

**kisvakondok rec'd it on the Gazebo...which made me have to go over there and beg to be let in so I could see. I find that place equal parts entertaining/amusing/honest/scary as fuck, so thanks, it's given me an entirely new perspective on fanfic :)**

**Charmie made a thread on Twilighted and also did a write-up for the Fanfiction Rebels Blog :)**

**Edited and re-posted 8/26/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

EPOV

After reaching the top of the stairs, I immediately approached our bedroom door. _Our bedroom_. I surprised myself with how much I liked the sound of that. I grasped the knob, but when I jiggled it, it wouldn't budge. I tried it several more times, all equally unsuccessful.

"Isabella?" I called, pounding the side of my fist on the dark wood.

At first there was no response and I grew worried, but then I heard a soft shuffle on the opposite side of the door.

"Isabella, are you all right? Won't you let me in?"

Several more silent seconds went by before she finally answered.

"Edward, if it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you possibly leave me be for a little while? I have some…lady things to take care of."

Her voice was timid and quiet, but I didn't press her to elaborate since she obviously didn't want to discuss what she was doing in there, and I most likely didn't want to know anyway.

"Certainly," I assured her, "I have some errands to run. Since you're indisposed, it won't bother you if I leave, will it?"

Fidgeting against the door, I rested my head on its cool surface and awaited her reply.

"No, I'll be fine here."

"I won't be gone long, I promise."

"I'll be fine," she replied firmly but with a hint of irritation, her words softened by her lilting accent.

I shrugged away from the door and ambled back downstairs, my footfalls growing louder the further I got from her. Locating the bag containing my gear and my foil from where I had laid it the night before, I approached the front door and flung it open, only to be confronted with the less than gleeful visage of Alice, who looked as though she had just been about to knock. She glanced around me, her eyes shifting left to right as she tried to see into the house.

"Where's my sister?" she demanded.

"Why, Alice, how good of you to stop by. What a pleasure to see you, how unexpected!" I grinned at her cheekily.

"Shut it, Edward. I'm here to see about my sister, not make small talk with you."

"Well, she's not seeing anyone right now. I've chained her up in the attic where I've been inflicting my vile personage on her…repeatedly."

Alice let out an unladylike snort before nudging me aside and entering the house.

"She's upstairs in the bedroom. I'm going out, but I'd prefer her to still be here when I return," I added, a serious edge to my voice.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to whisk her off," Alice replied as she ascended the stairs.

I left the house, still intending on visiting the fencing school, but with worry clouding my thoughts. _Would_ she still be there when I came home? I found myself frightened at the prospect of her not being there, my father's most recent warning lingering in the back of my mind.

I found Emmett at the school, laughingly taking on several gentlemen and their blades at the same time. As I often did when I watched him, I wondered how such a large, heavily muscled man could be so graceful at the same time. All of his moves were so well orchestrated, his attention to proper form and stance were without fault. It was truly an honor to be able to spar with a partner of his caliber.

"Edward!" he called excitedly when he caught sight of me. "Please, come and join us."

"I'd prefer to wait for a personal lesson. Perhaps I should come back another time?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary. I'll send these lads off."

With a simple flick of his foil, Emmett sent the young gentlemen scattering to a far corner of the room, their eyes trained on me as I joined Emmett in the center.

We faced off against each other, the blade tips of our foils blunted to keep us from injury. Circling silently, both of us waited for the perfect moment to strike. I tried to read his movements and anticipate his attack. Much like I did when I was at the gaming tables, I watched for the slightest change in expression, or shift in stance. What made Emmett so very good was the speed with which he decided on his next move. There seemed but a split second between thought and action. This was never more aptly illustrated then at that moment when he lunged toward me, immediately putting me on the defensive. Our blades crashed together rapidly, the sudden noise reverberating through the large room.

Despite my own skill, I found it exceedingly difficult to keep Emmett from backing me into the corner of the room. Sweat poured off my face and down my back, my forearms quivered, and I felt the burn of exertion surge through my thighs.

"Edward, you're going soft! You need to stay away from the ladies."

I tried to laugh but I'm sure it came out more akin to a grunt. "I've only one lady occupying my time now. And I can assure you, soft is quite the opposite of what she makes me."

I took advantage of Emmett's temporary loss of concentration, and pushed him back to the middle of the room.

"A one-woman-man; I must admit, I'm shocked. Who's the lucky girl?" he inquired incredulously.

"The same girl I told you about last time; I decided to go through with it."

The slamming of a door interrupted our conversation, both of us turning toward the disturbance.

"Emmett Cullen! You were supposed to be home an hour ago, but here you are, still playing with your friends."

The lads who had remained to watch us practice scuttled past the woman and out the door behind her, fear etched plainly on their faces. Emmett dropped his blade and raised his hands in suppliance.

"Rosie, my love, I didn't realize the time, forgive me? Come and let me introduce you to my friend."

The woman sauntered across the floor, her skirt whipping around her ankles and a basket clutched in her arms. Her hair was so blonde it was nearly white, her skin pale, and her blue eyes shone crystal clear behind her thick lashes. She was also nearly as tall as Emmett and I, but had an otherwise shapely, feminine form. She stopped next to Emmett, her heated glare settling upon me and eyeing me, top to bottom.

"Rosie, this is Mr. Edward Masen, my most promising student, and a recent addition to the school. He arrived from Chicago several months ago," Emmett informed her.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Masen," she replied while jutting out her hand. "I am Mrs. Rosalie Cullen."

I bent to kiss her hand, but on my way down, something caught my eye. At the bottom of her throat, just above the neck of her dress, a dark purple scar marred her otherwise spotless skin. My eyes must have lingered a moment too long, as I felt her hand stiffen in mine. I looked up at her as my lips brushed her knuckles. She swallowed hard, a faint look of sadness overtaking her features.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Cullen. I'm sorry to have kept your husband away from home," I apologized.

She quickly turned from me and back to Emmett. "Since you couldn't be bothered to leave and come home, I've brought your meal with me. I'll just let you finish up with Mr. Masen. When you're done, we can eat in the back room. "

Emmett nodded and Rosalie turned and left us. He watched her the whole way until she disappeared from sight through the door, and continued to stare for several moments after.

"She hates that the first thing people notice about her is her scar. I wish that I could take it all away for her."

"Not that it's any of my business, but what happened to her?"

Emmett sighed and didn't answer at first.

"I met her at a cotillion while I was in Charleston with my family. She was already affianced, and the man was wealthy and well known, but I was able to convince her to break it off with him and marry me. Of course, her parents were terribly upset, but Rosie was used to getting what she wanted, and got them to agree to it. The night she told Mr. King, her former fiance, things didn't go well. He told her that he would never let her go and tried to force her to leave with him. Fortunately, the servants overheard Rosie's shouts and her father was able to have him escorted from their home. However, several days later, Mr. King caught her sitting alone in the garden and attempted to assault her, managing to slit her throat in the process. He took off, leaving her for dead. She had been waiting for my parents and I to arrive." His last few words had emerged as barely a whisper, guilt lining his face.

After he had cleared his throat, he continued, "We arrived moments later, and as luck would have it, my father is a skilled surgeon. He was able to save her life."

"What happened to King?"

"Like I said, he and his family were very wealthy; he evaded criminal charges. Though we were sure it was he, Rosie was unable to speak for weeks and was too weak to be questioned anyway. I found him one night, drinking at a local inn and challenged him to a duel. He's the only man I've ever killed, and Edward, I would do it again without a second thought. I've never felt any guilt over his death."

"Nor should you," I replied confidently.

"I hope you remember that, if you ever find yourself in the same situation."

"You can be sure that I will." I paused to consider how I would feel if Isabella were in danger or brutally injured at the hands of another. A ripple of fear coursed through me, quickly followed by intense anger. I would allow no one to take her: she was mine.

"I'd better get back to Rosalie; the woman has a temper the like of which you've never seen. Come again soon, Edward. I rather like sparring with someone _almost _as good as me." He laughed and clapped me on the back before heading to the other room.

On my way back to the house, I stopped in at the furniture shop and made arrangements for the delivery of some much needed furnishings. I also requested that someone come by to make repairs on the bed. The shopkeeper looked askance but politely did not inquire as to how the damage was caused.

When I entered the house, all was quiet, but the smell of cooking food wafted in from the back. My stomach growled appreciatively and I found myself feeling utterly ravenous, a sensation I hadn't had in quite some time. I followed the scent, finding Tanya busily chopping, stirring, and adding ingredients to a tall, copper pot. Hovering in the doorway, I was unsure of whether my presence would frighten her, so I coughed softly, watching as she spun around, startled but not appearing to be afraid.

"Are the ladies still home?" I inquired of her.

"They have yet to come downstairs, Michie," she answered timidly.

I nodded, relieved that I wouldn't have to turn the city upside down in search of my Isabella.

Tanya turned back to her cooking and I realized that if we were going to have a proper meal, I would have to get cleaned up. My clothes stuck to my clammy skin and the scent of my sweat was about to overtake that of the food.

Spying a large, metal basin by the back door, I snatched it up and lugged it with me into the yard. As I filled it with cool well water, I daydreamed about the huge porcelain bathtub I'd asked to have delivered with the rest of the furniture. Isabella and I would both be able to fit in it comfortably.

Stripping down to just my under drawers, I splashed myself with water and then dunked my whole head in. I heard a rustling behind me and rubbed my hands down my face and through my hair, wiping away the water to see who was approaching.

Tanya was standing a few feet behind me on the flagstone walkway, a cloth in one outstretched hand, a bar of soap in the other. I took them gratefully, but noticed that her eyes never left the ground, and her overly slender form trembled.

"Just in case you were wondering," I began, "the things that were allowed to go on under Monsieur Lafontaine's supervision will not be happening here. Whatever _services_ he required of you, I will not be."

I reached out and hooked my fingers around her jaw, raising her head so that she was forced to look me in the eye. A sob escaped her and tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. Now that I was really seeing her, I felt even worse about her situation. She was undeniably very young, maybe as much as two years younger than Isabella, and equally undeniable was her beauty, though it had been somewhat ravaged by years of hard labor and malnutrition. The thought occurred to me that under slightly altered circumstances, it could have been my own Isabella suffering this undeserved fate.

"I promise you, you'll be safe here," I told her in my most confident tone.

She nodded slightly to show she understood and I was just about to go back to my ablutions when the back door opened and Isabella and Alice made their way out onto the porch. I couldn't help the smile that I felt overtake my face as it had been hours since I had last set eyes upon her.

"My dear girl, are you feeling better?" I asked, dropping my hand from Tanya's chin and moving past her toward the porch. Alice and Isabella wore twin expressions of confusion and dismay.

"Edward, you're…" Isabella motioned to me with her hand and I looked down, noticing that I was still standing in nothing but my under drawers.

"Oh, my apologies, ladies. I was in the middle of getting clean so I'd be fit company for dinner."

"Well then, we'll leave you to it."

Isabella turned haughtily and marched back into the house with Alice right behind her. Evidently, she was not feeling better.

Tanya brushed past me, headed back into the house as well. She stopped at the door and called over her shoulder, "The meal will be ready in a half hour's time, Michie."

I went back to my washing, aided by the soap and the water, which was growing warmer in the hot afternoon sun. By the time I was finished, I was clean, but sopping wet, my under drawers sticking to my lower limbs and proving to be quite revealing. I dried off with the cloth as best I could and then wrapped it around my waist before plucking up my dirty clothes from the ground and carrying them strategically in front of me.

I hurried through the back door, rushing past Tanya and up the servant's staircase, reaching my room the less public way. My bags still lay scattered across the floor where I had left them the night before. Isabella and Alice must have remained downstairs, as the bedroom was empty of any human occupants. I dressed, bemoaning my wrinkled clothes and castigating myself for not hanging them up right away. Then I remembered why I was so distracted last night and lost myself in the memory for several minutes.

After making a poor attempt at smoothing out my hair, I stepped back into my boots and headed downstairs. I found Alice and Isabella huddled next to each other on the sofa in the parlor, deep in conversation. They abruptly stopped speaking as soon as they noticed my presence in the room. I had expected this kind of reception from Alice, but Isabella's behavior was really starting to unnerve me. Deciding that I would get to the bottom of things after we ate, I invited both ladies to join me in the dining room.

"No, I don't think I will," Alice quipped. "Bella, I expect I'll be seeing you again soon. You are quite welcome in my home, of course."

"Thank you, Alice," Isabella answered, her expression unreadable to me.

Alice rose from the sofa, squeezing both of Isabella's hands between hers before marching past me without another word. I heard the front door slam, causing Isabella to jump and me to startle. Holding my hand out to Isabella, I entreated her to take it and follow me. The walk to the dining room was silent, her body unyielding and her eyes downcast.

Tanya had the table set beautifully even though our household supplies were still sparse. I guided Isabella to her seat, pulling it out for her and waiting for her to settle in before I slipped into mine, on her left, at the head of the table. Tanya immediately appeared at the door, wine bottle in hand, and poured us each a glass. She was back in seconds, this time with a serving platter balanced on her left hand and a large bowl gripped in her right. She announced that it was bouillabaisse, but I wasn't sure what that meant. I never felt more like a Yankee than during meal times in New Orleans. I was brought up on meat and potatoes, salt being the most frequently used spice. Eating was more like an event than a necessity here.

I waited for Isabella to start and attempted to simulate her actions. When Tanya reappeared with a still steaming bowl of crusty bread, I quickly grabbed up several thick slices and began devouring them with gusto.

Isabella picked slowly at her meal and spoke not a word. The silence was beginning to grate on my nerves and I pondered confronting her about it straight away, but my appetite was such that I stopped eating only long enough to gulp my wine.

Tanya came in frequently to refill my glass and replenish the bread I couldn't resist. On her next round, I reached out and grabbed her wrist, halting her retreat.

"This is an excellent meal, Tanya. You've done very well." She smiled down at me and I released her wrist, allowing her to go on her way.

Isabella's spoon clattered into her bowl and her gaze jerked up to meet mine. The expression on her face was fairly menacing, and I shifted in my seat, feeling a confusing mixture of arousal and fear.

"Do you enjoy cooking, Isabella?"

"No, I can't say I have any talent in that area," she answered icily. "Perhaps it's a good thing you have _her _here to assist you in ways I cannot."

"I can't imagine there's anything you can't do if you put your mind to it. Maybe Tanya could teach you how, if you wanted to learn. She seems to want to be helpful."

"Oh, I'm sure she's been quite helpful. Looks to me like she's helped herself right into my house."

I just stared at her. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she was so very upset about.

"Listen, is there something wrong? Do you want to go home? Is that it? Do you think you've made a mistake coming here?" I shot the questions off at her rapidly, silently praying that she'd disagree and tell me I had it wrong.

"I think I may have been mistaken about quite a few things, Edward. I thought I could ignore the fact that you've had so many previous lovers, but since you've decided to shove it right under my nose, I can't help but see that I was wrong."

"Don't be ridiculous. What are you pitching a fit over?"

"Ridiculous!" she screeched the word at me before lunging across and grabbing the lapels of my frock coat. "Ta Gueule!" she repeated several times, each louder than before. I had a feeling that this wasn't one of the French phrases I really wanted to learn the meaning of.

Her bosom was heaving with the exertion of yelling and was colored a lovely shade of rose red. She was biting hard on her lower lip, her breath coming out in short pants, and desperate tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. I came to the conclusion that inside my darling Isabella, there resided a girl with a fiery temper and I found that I liked it. However, this time it was directed at me, and I thought it best not to express my appreciation out loud.

When I didn't immediately react to her outburst, she picked up steam, shouting this and that, most of which I didn't recognize as English, but I could be mistaken as she was so in the moment that I'm not sure she even knew what nonsense she was spouting. And then she slapped me.

It was almost as if I had been waiting for it. Several times in the last few weeks I had felt as if I deserved it, but since I still had no idea what she was going on about, it didn't seem that way now.

I stood up suddenly, my chair shooting out from behind me, and grabbed her arms, forcing them to her sides and then spinning her around. I wrapped my right arm around her to hold her squirming body still, while pushing the place settings and tablecloth away from us with my left. I thrust her against the table and bent her over, keeping her arms secured and fisting her hair in my other hand, forcing her face to the side so I had access to her ear and she'd be able to breathe. She struggled against my grip, her hips pushing back and her arms trying to wiggle themselves free. I laid the weight of my body onto hers, and bracketed her legs with my own. Though it may have seemed rough, I took great care to make sure that I wasn't inflicting any actual damage upon her, as that would be unforgivable. I really just wanted to know what was going on before she tore the house down in a fit of rage.

The flesh of her cheeks burned the brightest red I had ever seen, and she shrieked more than breathed. I couldn't help but chuckle as she reminded me so much of a naughty child having a fit. I snuggled down close to her face and ran my nose up her jaw line and the shell of her ear. Her hair was loosened in the struggle and was falling across her back and hypnotizing me with its heavenly scent. If it was even possible, I wanted her now more than ever before. My tongue flicked out and lapped at her ear, and then I gently nibbled it before softly delivering kisses down the side of her face. She shrieked louder and tried to throw herself against me to put me off balance. The only thing that that move accomplished was to show her where my mind was really at. She groaned in exasperation, and I chuckled louder.

"Do you want to play, little girl?"

***roughly translates from French as 'shut the fuck up'**


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: JFC, I still don't own this. I may have "borrowed" a few random quotes from the movie and used them in completely inappropriate contexts. And in the interest of full disclosure, Edward shamelessly stole a quote from Russell Brand's June interview w/ Elle Magazine. But RB's trying to reform his manwhore ways as well, so hopefully he won't care.**

**Edited and re-posted 8/26/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

**BPOV**

"_Do you want to play, little girl?"_

"Release me," I demanded, struggling against his iron clad grip.

"No, not until you explain yourself." He nuzzled my neck and nipped my ear. "As entertaining as I find your behavior, I think I deserve an explanation as to why you're suddenly hysterical."

I didn't answer, just continued to struggle although I knew there was no way that I would be able to escape his grasp.

"Please," he whispered.

"Fine. It's quite obvious that I'm not going to be enough for you."

I didn't want to say the words out loud. Once I had said them, and he confirmed the truth, I'd be forced to leave. My pride would allow no exceptions. At least I wouldn't have to return to my parent's house with my tail between my legs; Alice had offered me refuge. Still, they would find out that they had been correct and I would be a shamed woman.

"You're more than enough for me. What put that idea back into your head?"

He wasn't laughing anymore, and for that I was thankful.

"The slave girl, she carries your child, doesn't she?" I accused, my tone livid.

Silence fell across the room. I didn't move and I didn't breathe, awaiting his response. He stiffened behind me, letting loose of my hands and hair, and rising up off of me.

"No, Isabella, she does not."

He paused, leaned back over me and braced his hands on the table at my sides.

"It hurts that you have so little faith in me, but I can't say that I don't deserve it."

"So, you're certain then? You didn't bring her here to be your lover?"

"I brought her here to help you, and to take her out of a particularly awful situation, _and for no other reason._"

I carefully flipped myself over, and then shimmied up so that I was perched on the table, bringing myself up to eye level with Edward. Trailing my hands up his arms until I reached his shoulders, I rubbed them tenderly and cupped his face. I could see the sincerity in his eyes as I swiped my thumbs under them.

"It's just how it looked to me, I suppose. The way you greeted her and then she was out with you in the garden. Alice tried to tell me that things aren't always what they seem, but I didn't believe her. Maybe I was too quick to judge; I'm so sorry."

He ducked his head and rested it against my chest, his nose making soft slow circles on my bosom. His hands came off the table and rested on my knees, giving them reassuring squeezes. A quiet hum came from deep in his throat and his tongue retraced the route his nose had just taken.

"My dear girl, if I have to tell you a thousand times and find ways to show you a million more, you're the only one I want. And I want you desperately."

"You're truly going to forsake all others for me? But why would you?" I asked breathlessly as Edward's hands slipped under the material of my dress.

"I've never before met one woman who made me want to give up all others, but now I have. Therefore, I have no desire for anyone else, no need for their comfort."

He drew my skirt up and moved his body between my lower limbs. I leaned back on my arms and felt his hands grip my waist, grasping the band of my pantaloons and tugging on them.

"Someone could come in," I whispered.

"No one's coming in here," he replied gruffly.

He whipped them off with such speed, the stiff cotton made a cracking noise.

"No stockings, nor crinoline, not even a corset. I must say, I prefer you this way."

"I was somewhat distraught today. Since I wasn't going out, I didn't pay much attention to what I had on."

He grabbed me behind my knees, hitching my legs around his hips.

"Then I must find better ways to distract you. I don't want you distraught and forgetful, but maybe…so overcome with passion and desire that you don't remember to put any of your clothes on."

I laughed quietly, happy to find that Edward could so quickly turn a tense conversation playful. "But then we could never leave the house."

His only answer was a devious grin, and his hands continued their upward path until his thumbs met the juncture of my thighs. His grip tightened, forcing them into my flesh where they tickled and teased along the borders of my sex. My back arched and I pressed myself to him, hoping he would continue lavishing me with his affections.

He broke eye contact with me, watching his own hands instead and his trouser-covered cock as it rhythmically rubbed against me. Tightening my legs around him, I pulled him in closer. He tsked me and withdrew his hands, but a lazy smile betrayed his amusement.

I soon found myself with my ankles wrapped around his neck, as Edward had hefted my legs loose from his hips and propped them on his shoulders. One of his hands caressed my calf while the other pushed and pulled at his trouser buttons. Eventually, he worked them loose and jiggled his pelvis. I giggled when his trousers dropped to the floor. He smirked and playfully bit my calf before licking up to my ankle and then switching to do the same to the other leg.

Since his right hand was now free, he worked his arms loose from his frock coat and began attempting to unbutton his shirt. When it didn't come apart quickly enough, he growled in frustration and wrenched it off, causing buttons to fly and scatter about the room. I giggled louder than before, releasing all my pent up energy and hostility. After a few moments, I realized Edward had stopped moving and there was no answering laughter from him. I opened my eyes to see him glowering down at me.

"Do you find this amusing?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

I tried to straighten my face and answer him seriously, but all that emerged from my mouth were more giggles. Before I knew what was happening, Edward had hoisted himself onto the table, sending dishes clattering to the floor. My legs, still on his shoulders, were now bent at such an angle that my knees were level with my ears, leaving me to feel like one of the acrobats featured in Barnum's shows.

I was very glad I wasn't terribly fond of the dress I was wearing, due to Edward's next course of action, removing it by force. His long and able fingers tugged and shredded the material wherever he could grab a hold of it, his body weighing heavily upon mine and rendering me immobile while he did so.

Our activities both aroused and frightened me, as I was not accustomed to such rough treatment. His cock ground hard against my center, the frenzied motions spurring me on and calling me to respond with equal vigor. Reaching up, I placed my fingers around his ears and pulled his face to mine. I took advantage of his open mouth and thrust my tongue inside, meeting his in a messy kiss, which quickly turned into a battle for supremacy. Determined not to allow him to dominate the whole encounter, I sucked his bottom lip between my own and bit down harshly, but not hard enough to draw blood. He tried to pull back, but I kept his face forced to mine, our teeth clanging together before I fastened onto his top lip, biting it as well.

With jerking movements, he managed to gain hold of his under-drawers, shedding them with great speed despite our awkward position. His fingers delved inside of me; finding me slick, ready, and anxious for relief.

This time when he attempted to pull away, I allowed him. He opened his eyes and cocked his head, silently asking permission to continue. I nodded minutely and within seconds, he was deep inside of me and pumping furiously, setting a blistering pace. Folded up as I was, breathing was difficult, my breaths leaving me in labored gasps. Edward lowered his head and latched onto my breast, biting down, no doubt in revenge for his bitten and swollen lips. I cried out, thumping the back of my head on the table and trying to push him back ineffectively. He snickered and continued, ignoring my yelp and pushing into me even deeper.

The table creaked and groaned under the onslaught, and I hoped it had been made with typically solid Creole craftsmanship. Dishes kept dropping to the floor in loud crashes, the pounding vibrations causing them to shimmy off the table edge.

Edward's motions suddenly slowed, his hips no longer beating forcefully against my backside. Nudging my leg off his right shoulder and leaning diagonally across my body, he placed his hands flat on the tabletop on either side of my head. My other leg remained fully extended and snug in the crook of his neck; the soft scruff on his jaw leaving delicious tingles on the skin at my ankle. It only added to the pleasure already streaming through the rest of my body.

He rolled his hips repetitively, compelling his full length inside of me and brushing hard against the most sensitive areas of my flesh. I was extremely grateful that the discomfort of our first encounter no longer seemed an issue, and that intercourse was now an entirely pleasurable experience. I wondered if everyone enjoyed it so much, or if this was a paradise that only Edward and I shared.

He shifted slightly, bringing his face to mine. First our foreheads, then our noses and lips tenderly touched. The tip of my tongue crept out and lapped gently at its counterpart. A sound not unlike a broken sob, issued forth from Edward's mouth.

"Isabella," he said in a strangled whisper, "please don't ever doubt my affection for you again."

I slid my hands up, joining them at the back of his neck. "I won't. I promise," I replied before allowing Edward to claim my lips in a passionate kiss.

The vigor of his thrusts renewed, his breaths escaping in heavy gusts that chilled my damp skin. I arched fully against the press of his body, my head thrown back and my neck exposed. Beginning at my chin and working his way down, he licked and sucked at my throat, the tender region happily receiving his tongue's languid caresses. His hands flew down and grasped my hip and backside fiercely, pulling me ever closer as we neared the end of our coupling. My tired limbs, no longer working with perfect synchronicity, still pulled me toward absolute rapture.

I bit into the smooth flesh of his shoulder, trying desperately to stifle the volume of my cries, but it didn't matter, as Edward was loud enough for the both of us. His chest trembled with the force of his grunt and seconds later, I felt a warm wetness pool on my belly after he had quickly removed himself from me. He slunk back off the table and stood, looking around half in a daze.

"We've made a terrible mess," he stated, shaking his head and running his hands through his impossibly tangled hair.

"Yes we have; it must look as if I've become the meal."

"The most exquisite one I've ever had. None before has ever left me so fully….satisfied," he replied, his lips twitching with barely concealed merriment. "Come here, let's get you fixed up."

I slid forward and sat up, the remaining strips of fabric that had once been my buttercup yellow day-dress, falling to the table at my sides. Edward found a cloth serviette dangling off the seat of one of the chairs, and wiped my sticky belly clean before scooping his frock coat up from the floor, offering it to me as a substitute. While I donned the coat, he pulled on his trousers and dress shirt, not bothering to button the latter.

Once we were relatively decent, Edward plucked me up from the table and carried me on his hip like a child. My naked legs wrapped around his middle, but when I tried to grip tightly, I found that my muscles were exhausted and unable to do so.

"You've had a trying day. I think I'll put you right to bed," he announced.

My head bobbed lazily in agreement, all the fire and feistiness drained from my body and mind. I dropped my head to his shoulder, my eyes half-lidded and ready to close at any moment.

Edward carried me to the door and nudged it open with his foot, his gait so smooth it felt as if we were gliding. I couldn't wait to be snuggled up next to him in our slightly damaged bed.

"Michie?" a quiet, feminine voice called out.

With great effort, I raised my head from its concealment under the stiff collar of the coat. Tanya and Seth were huddled in the corner of the hallway, looking like they were about to face an executioner. I realized we had probably frightened them half to death with our dining room antics.

"You two, stay out of that room; I'll take care of it later," Edward commanded. "And…err, dinner was good," he added in a much softer tone while mounting the stairs.

Quick as a wink, Edward had me up the stairs and into the bed. My eyes were already shut, and I barely felt him yanking the coat back off and sliding me between the sheets.

When I awoke, it must have been many hours later, as I felt fully rested, however the room was still dark, the dawn of the new day having yet to arrive. My hair tickled my shoulder and I got the distinct impression that someone else was awake, awake and fiddling with one of my ringlets.

"Do you ever sleep?" I questioned, my voice quiet and cracking.

"Not much. My dear girl, you should go back to sleep, it's several hours yet until we should get up."

"If you're awake, I want to be awake."

"Always so stubborn," he chuckled.

I rolled over and propped myself up on one arm. My hair slipped through his fingers so he contented himself by running them along my collarbone instead. The gentlest of touches making my skin flame with desire. In an effort to restrain my physical urges, I re-broached the subject of last night's argument.

"I'm so sorry I accused you of such blatant and hurtful behavior, Edward. I do promise to trust you as you've asked."

"I don't blame you for it; it's not like I've been the most trustworthy of fellows before this. Now that I understand what you perceived, I can see why you would believe the way you did. I only wish you would have just asked me straight off, though I think I can see why you didn't do that either. There's a particular reason why that accusation bothered me so much, but I don't talk about it with anyone."

"I'm not just anyone."

He exhaled loudly. "No, I suppose not."

He was silent, and I thought maybe he would just brush me off. I didn't much care for pushing him to speak, but honestly, I was naturally curious and dying to know.

"It's always easier to tell difficult things in the dark, isn't it? I've always found it to be so."

"Very well, if you must know, I'll tell you, but you won't like it," he hedged.

"Please," I begged, running my hand through the silky strands of hair on his chest.

"There was a girl," he stopped to clear his throat, "that seems to be where most of my confessions start," he muttered.

I bristled a bit, but reminded myself that I had asked for this.

"The real reason my father and I left Chicago is that we were asked to leave, quite nicely, by several of the Governor's men, at gun point."

I couldn't help myself and let out an audible squeak.

"We had been to the Governor's Ball in Springfield several months before and I met the Governor's daughter there. Heidi was her name, and it was well known throughout our social circle that she was, how shall I say it...a good time girl, but she was also the apple of her father's eye and he was blind to her activities."

"According to the gossip, she had already made her way through the Springfield boys and so when my friends and I arrived, she latched onto us, spending the whole evening in our company. We all danced with her and flirted shamelessly as we often did to entertain ourselves. Usually, those high society girls soon tired of our naughty games, but Heidi delighted in them, incessantly teasing back and pushing the boundaries of common decency."

"Of course, we didn't care; we were having a wonderful time and as the evening progressed, Heidi disappeared for chunks of time with each of my friends, until at last, she grabbed my hand and dragged me off to a hall closet under the stairs. As I think of it now, I wonder if all along, she wanted to get caught since we were in there only a few minutes before her father flung open the door. To say he was not amused would be putting it lightly."

"Anyway, my friends and I were asked to leave and when my father caught up with us later, he seemed to find the whole situation terribly funny."

"A few weeks later, back in Chicago, I came home one night to find my father and the Governor deep in conversation in the study. As it turns out, they were busy planning out my future for me."

"Why would they be doing that?" I stopped him to ask.

"Because Heidi was pregnant and they had decided that I was going to take the fall for it. You see, my father had already told the Governor that I would happily marry his daughter and save her from disgrace. As always, he was thinking about the additional money and power we'd gain, and not my feelings at all."

"But could it have been…?"

"What? My baby? No, like I said, we were only alone for a few minutes and there wasn't...we didn't…just, no, I know it couldn't have been mine; I always take precautions."

"Precautions?"

"Errr, yes, against conception…and disease."

I raised my brows, wordlessly asking for further clarification. Edward sighed, his eyes looking anywhere but at mine. He was completely uncomfortable and had stopped touching me, his foot bouncing rapidly on the mattress.

"There are certain things you don't need to know," he stated nervously, probably believing I would continue to press him on the subject.

"Humph," I replied.

I was going to let him win this one time because I had already decided to ask Alice. He had mentioned conception, so I believed that Alice would most likely know from assisting Tante Angélique in her midwifery duties. She'd give better details and it wouldn't be like pulling teeth to get the information from her.

He heaved a sigh of relief when I didn't pester him further.

"Obviously, I had no desire to marry her," Edward continued as if the other subject had never arisen. "She carried another man's child and would likely never be able to be trusted to be faithful, not that I could have been either. Try as they might, my father and the Governor could not get me to do it. The Governor seemed absolutely convinced that I was at fault since I was the one that was found in her company. He still refused to believe that it could have been the child of any number of men."

"What happened to the girl?" I couldn't bring myself to utter her name.

"I don't know; after we were forced to leave the city, I ceased correspondence with my friends. I imagine he found some poor whelp to marry her."

"Is Alice terribly upset with me?" He changed the subject again.

"She wasn't at first; she thought I had the wrong idea, that is until she saw you in the garden with Tanya."

"She was just bringing me soap," was his frustrated reply.

"I know that now, but if you could have seen it through my eyes, it would have appeared quite different to you as well."

"Set your mind at ease, Isabella. I've never had anything to do with her in that way, and I never will. I don't approve of any man consorting with slaves, no matter how willing they may seem. They're never truly free to choose their partners, and I have never forced my attentions on any girl. I don't want to be a monster, and that in my opinion, is a monstrous act."

He had gotten quite agitated during his speech and I sought to soothe him by running my hands through his hair. He pulled me closer to him, humming his appreciation for the gesture into my neck. After several silent minutes, his breathing evened and he fell into a soundless slumber.

At some point, I must have fallen back to sleep as well, for I woke up with the sun shining in on my face. Edward slept still; his head nestled betwixt my breasts. I slid away from him as silently as I could and crept over to my dressing room. I found another light day-dress and threw it over my head and arms, not worrying about accessories as I was hoping to arrange for a morning bath.

Sneaking back through the bedroom, I halted when I caught sight of Edward's slumbering form. He had rolled onto his belly and stretched out to his full length across the bed, a pillow shoved under one arm and nowhere near his head where it belonged. I watched his rib cage expand with each breath and the involuntary twitches of the muscles in his arms. I wondered if it was because he was dreaming, and what his dreams might entail. Though we were still mostly strangers to each other, I hoped that in time, he would open his whole heart to me as I had already made room for him in mine.

I watched him quietly, gazing at the sheet draped low on his back, dipped far enough that I could see the two dimples right above his bottom. I longed to run my hands down his lightly freckled back and touch those dimples, but I thought it best to let him sleep since he rarely did so.

Forcing myself to leave the room, I headed downstairs in search of food and drink. I hadn't eaten much the day before and after all of the vigorous activity that the evening had held, I was starving.

I drifted through the hallway, passing each room and looking in, but found them all empty. Not a soul was in the kitchen either, but I found a tray of freshly made pain perdu and hunted in the pantry until I located a can of chicory. I warmed the milk and the water for my café au lait and set to work devouring the delicious egg soaked bread.

Hearing voices drifting in from the garden, I peeked through the small window and saw Tanya and Seth scrubbing laundry and hanging it out to dry. Looking at them now, I couldn't help but pity them, whereas the day before, I had hated the sight of them. Through my jealousy-tinged view, Tanya had seemed an evil succubus sent by the devil himself. Now that I was able to be more reasonable, I could see that she was but a half grown child and had most likely been taken advantage of in the worst way.

Turning back to my breakfast, I finished up quickly and took my cup with me into the dining room. Carefully gathering the shards of broken crockery and the simple stoneware dishes, I silently thanked the Lord that it hadn't been a set of expensive bone china, and made a pile of everything that would need to be tossed in the refuse heap.

Occasionally stopping to sip my cooling au lait, I worked diligently on the mess for nigh on a half hour, until I was disturbed by a cleared throat. On my hands and knees, facing away from the door, I very nearly clocked my head on the underside of the table in surprise. Turning, I saw a vaguely familiar face but couldn't place it until the man grinned slyly at me. Only one other man could smile that way.

"Morning, Miss, I'm here to hunt up my son. It's been some time since I've heard from him and I was getting concerned, you see." He paused and took in the room. "What the hell happened in here?"

I felt my skin flush with heat as I tried to block out the images of what had happened in the room. I was never very good at lying and trying to come up with an excuse at a moment's notice was beyond my capabilities. At the sight of my reticence, Edward's father got a twinkle in his eye and began to laugh boisterously.

"Can I offer you a drink, Monsieur?" I asked warily.

"I suppose it would be awfully rude of me to request a good whiskey this early in the day?"

"I don't think we have any. We're a bit low on supplies, but I can pour you a café au lait if you'll just follow me."

I led him to the kitchen and he made himself comfortable at the small table.

"Where is Edward?"

"He's asleep upstairs; do you want me to go and get him?"

"That won't be necessary, as you can see, I'm awake now. But what remains to be seen is why you're here," Edward called out, suddenly looming in the doorway. He was still buttoning his shirt, his wrinkled trousers appearing to have been hastily put on and his hair wild from sleep.

Tanya and Seth also chose that moment to stumble in, a basket of clean laundry in both of their arms.

"Would you look at that," Edward's father let out a low whistle. "Looks like you got two for the price of one. Well done, boy, no wonder you've been too busy to answer your dear father's invitations."

I always thought that there was no one else on this earth capable of turning a brighter shade of red than me, but Edward soon showed me otherwise. Tanya and Seth must have also noticed the murderous glare in Edward's eyes, for they turned around and fled back into the garden. I would have liked to follow them as I had a feeling my kitchen was about to house as much broken crockery as my dining room still did.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, it would have been rated R so that I wouldn't have to suffer thru crap shows like the TCAs just to see 1 min of Rob. I do take credit for everything in _this_ story.**

**A/N I have a bunch of people to thank because they've been uber nice to me:**

**ikss lovely author of The Cocky & The Cougar - read it, she just completed it :)**

**Holly1980 equally fantabulous author of Keeping The Faith - takes place in modern-day New Orleans post-Katrina and features a very smexxy ExB & their adventures in music and lovin'**

**The smexxy ladies of Twitter for their shout-outs, AddictedtoTwilight79 & xrxdanixrx who both have several stories on here :)**

**Rochelle Allison who is arguably the nicest, sweetest lady in this fandom and was the first author to ever reply to one of my reviews many moons ago...you've given me such a thrill :) ...and if you people haven't read Volition...umm you need to be doing that..like now****.**

**People I don't "know" and who don't tell me they are doing it, but I see them rec this places during my paranoid (or just curious? IDK) google searches. Spank you very much!**

**Edited and re-posted 8/26/2010 Thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

BPOV

Before any move was made by either Edward or his father, the silence was broken by a loud and prolonged banging at the front door. Edward released a heavy breath and stalked toward me, grabbing my arm and pulling me along behind him. My awkward feet tried to keep up with his determined pace, but I only succeeded in tripping myself and falling against his back. He swung me into his body, circling his arm around me and holding me to his side, before continuing on to the foyer. He wrenched the door open with his free hand and we were greeted by a dapper looking man that Edward seemed none too surprised to see.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Masen. I have assembled your purchases and I am here to deliver, as promised."

Looking over the man's shoulder, I could see several wagons lining the street, each carrying a heavy burden of furnishings, as well as a number of men to carry them in.

"Of course, Sir. If you would, please have the men bring them in and I'll direct them to the correct areas," Edward answered the man politely. I wished I had his ability to shift demeanor so quickly. He was truly able to adapt to abrupt changes in situation with an ease I envied.

I watched from the far corner of the room as piece after piece of fine looking furniture was paraded in from the wagons on the street. Edward seemed to know exactly where he wanted each item and often assisted the men with his own hands. My face became warm to the touch the longer I stared at his lean but well muscled forearms as they lifted, shifted and tugged, trying to maneuver an ungainly bookshelf into place against the wall. Though it was still early in the day, the summer heat was already causing him to perspire. His shirt clung to his torso, highlighting the planes of his chest, and stretching tightly across his back.

One of the last pieces came off the wagon as four men supported an enormous bathtub on their backs and shoulders. After directing them upstairs, Edward turned to me, a delighted smirk upon his face.

"Why would we need a tub so large, Edward?" I inquired, still astonished at its size.

He quirked his brow and crossed his arms against his chest. His smirk widened into a full-blown smile and he snorted a little before covering it by clearing his throat. Since he didn't seem inclined to answer, I thought about it a bit more.

"Oh," the sudden realization came to me, as well as more than a few lascivious thoughts. My cheeks flamed hotter than before, my visible reaction making Edward break out into a series of barely disguised chortles.

The men bustled back past us, the sweat streaming down their bare chests. Edward hurried after them, shaking hands with the shopkeeper on the doorstep and thanking him for the prompt and efficient delivery. He turned back to me and swept me up in his arms, exuberantly swinging us in a circle in the middle of the floor.

"Do you like what I picked? If you don't, we can send it back for something else."

"Everything is just beautiful; it's what I would have picked for myself," I assured him after he let me down.

"Why don't you go upstairs? I'll send Seth up to you with some water for the tub and you can relax."

"Will you be joining me?"

He frowned. "I don't think so. I believe I still have someone in the kitchen to attend to."

Somewhere along the way, I had completely forgotten about our unwelcome visitor.

"Yes, of course. I think I will just let you take care of that." I began to head over to the stairwell, but Edward caught my arm and pulled me to him. Winding his hands around the back of my neck and threading his fingers through my loose hair, he bent and caught my lips with his own. He proceeded to give me a swift but impassioned kiss, which made me doubly regret that he would not be following me to the bedroom. He stalked past me, making his way toward the rear of the house, a look of determination plastered across his face.

It wasn't too long before Seth was able to fill the tub halfway with heated water lugged from downstairs. I luxuriated in the bath into which I had poured my favorite perfumed oils and tried not to think about what may be going on between Edward and his father. I hated to believe that I was the sole cause of their current disagreement, and so decided instead that they must have a tenuous relationship often marked by conflict.

Scarcely a quarter hour had gone by before Edward entered the room, and I could tell by his expression that he was not in the best frame of mind. He perched on the side of the massive tub and pursed his lips, obviously considering his words carefully.

"My father wants me to accompany him out today. He says he has some business to discuss and would like me to join him for the evening as well," he announced, watching his fingertips as they swirled the water around my kneecap.

If he was looking to me for approval, I wasn't willing to say either way, so I just waited until he looked up and raised my brow in a silent question.

"I'd rather stay here with you…" he continued.

"But you have a duty to your father," I finished for him. "I understand if you need to go."

He nodded and looked to the doorway. "He's waiting for me. I hate to leave so abruptly, but apparently he's already agreed to meet with some business associates for an afternoon meal. I'll try not to be too late this evening, but don't concern yourself about staying up for me."

"Don't worry; I'm quite capable of amusing myself. I have to talk to Alice anyway."

"So you're going to explain to her that I'm not a complete bastard, right?"

"Yes, it's probably for the best that you don't know what kind of plans Alice was making yesterday after your unseemly display in the garden."

"You're right, I definitely don't want to find out what kind of vengeance she's capable of."

"Maybe you would do well to remember that."

"Absolutely." He winked and leaned down, again pressing his lips to mine, but this time it was both softer and sweeter.

I watched him walk out of the room before laying back and letting the bath soothe my increased agitation. I was wary of the situation with Edward's father, but I had hope that Edward would be able to avoid temptation in all its varied forms.

After my skin began to prune, I rose up and out of the bath and dressed in appropriate visiting attire. The dress I chose was simple, white and fairly conservative; I wasn't out to attract attention. I twisted my heavy hair up and pinned it at the nape of my neck. Checking my appearance in my newly arrived full-length mirror, I smoothed down my skirt and turned this way and that, examining my figure in the reflection. It didn't seem that I looked any different, but inside I felt like I was so much more than I had formerly been. No longer the quiet, reserved, ingénue, I was now semi-autonomous, with a home and a lover.

And what a lover he was. He confused me, enthralled me, and constantly surprised me with his deeds and his varying emotions. Sometimes, it felt like he was incapable of giving and receiving love, but since the night before, I had hope that that would change over time. Or maybe, I just didn't want to believe that this love affair would be forever one-sided. I wondered how long I would be able to hold his attention, and whether his 'affections' as he called them, were temporary or of a more permanent nature. Resolving to do everything in my power to keep him with me and content, I turned away from my mirrored image and prepared to leave.

I made the quick walk to Alice's house and skipped up the stairs, eager to share the news of Edward's and my easy reconciliation. Before I had even lifted my fist to knock on the door, it flew open and a giantess of a woman stood in the foyer with one hand on her hip and a bemused expression on her face. I didn't recognize her, but guessed Alice must have taken her on as help.

"You must be the famous sister everyone is talking about."

I was struck dumb by her greeting. I hadn't even thought about the gossip that would result from my actions at the party. My parents were probably mortified and ashamed. I wondered if they would ever talk to me again.

"I am Isabella; if I'm famous, I must protest I have no knowledge of that."

"Come in, chèr; Miss Alice was just getting ready to visit with you," she answered while moving back from the doorway to allow me entrance into the foyer. "I'm Zafrina. I don't believe we've had the occasion to meet before since I have only recently returned from Saint Dominique, but I'm a good friend to Angélique."

Being from the island explained her unorthodox appearance and heavier accent. She dressed in a style reminiscent of Tante Angélique's; vibrant colors, and elaborate jewelry, with the addition of a towering headscarf, which made her already staggering height appear even greater. Her skin was dark and flawless, not a wrinkle marred her face, causing me difficulty in ascertaining her age. I followed her into the house and up the main staircase, the many layers of her robes swishing behind her. She carried herself with absolute grace and confidence, and I could only aspire to one day stride so effortlessly.

Alice's bedroom door was open, and peering in, I saw her sitting in front of her vanity fussing with her hair. She turned around when she caught my reflection.

"Bella, we have to talk. I was just about to come see you," she rose and approached me, "Since you don't have bags with you, I'll assume you and Edward made it up."

"You were right about him, Alice. I judged him too quickly and nearly made a fool of myself over it," I confessed.

"So he had nothing to do with the poor girl's condition?"

"No, he was actually trying to help her. In the end, it was I who had the apologizing to do."

"By the blush on your cheeks, I can tell that he forgave you readily."

"That he did. He even tried to take some of the blame on himself. He knows I had reason to be suspicious, but he's promised nothing like that will happen. I think I can believe him. "

"I hope you can hold on to that after what I'm about to tell you."

"What is it? Mon Dieux! What else could be put in our path?"

"Jasper's father came this morning and invited him out for the day."

"Edward's did the same. He waltzed right into my house without so much as a knock."

"That's just what I thought. Jasper said that Edward and his father were waiting on the porch and that's why he had to leave so quickly. However, I was suspicious of course, so I pulled him aside, out of earshot of his father and demanded details."

"Edward said it was business, is that not true?"

"In defense of Edward, that's probably all his father told him, but Jasper's father was a bit more open. They are having a meeting with some business contacts, but they'll also be attending the opera tonight…as escorts for the contact's wealthy, marriageable daughters."

Alice's final words hung in the air and I wondered if I couldn't just un-hear them somehow. I should have been prepared for this, but I always thought of it in terms of the future, and as humans are wont to do, I had pushed it aside as a far off possibility, never expecting it to occur so soon. My belly burned and my shoulders sank. The sting of unshed tears forced my eyes closed and I felt myself sway.

"Bella!" Alice's sharp voice brought me back out of myself and I focused on her face. I couldn't understand why she didn't appear to be upset or even disturbed by this turn of events.

"Why aren't you worried?"

"Because, we have nothing to be worried about."

"How can you be so sure?"

She giggled. "Because we're going too!"

"I don't understand."

"Silly girl, we're going to get dressed and we're going to look our best _and _we're going to be sure that our lovely gentlemen have eyes for no other ladies but us. Despite whatever plans their fathers think they have to the contrary."

A small smile formed on my lips as I remembered the promise that I had made to myself but an hour before. "I'm so glad I have you, Alice. I don't know how I'd ever navigate this life without your presence."

I flew forward and embraced her, the show of affection decidedly rare coming from me, and it certainly surprised her. "Where do we start?"

After Alice untangled herself from my arms, she pulled me behind her into the dressing room.

"It so happens, a trunk arrived from Jacob just yesterday. I think its contents will prove useful."

She lifted the lid and removed the first gown with a flourish. "This one is yours, and I can guarantee Edward won't be looking at anyone but you. Our brother is a very smart man. He definitely understands how men like to see women dressed."

The gown was a deep, rich red. The skirt had several angled tiers and the bodice had the lowest boat-neck I had ever seen on a gown. "I'm not sure that's quite decent, Alice, though it is beautiful."

"Sssh, you should know better than to question Jacob's designs. It's what all the Parisian ladies are wearing, and you'll look like you just stepped out of a fantasy."

Alice and I spent the rest of the afternoon in preparation for the evening's festivities. Zafrina joined us several times, bringing indulgent refreshments and offering her opinions on everything from how our hair should be styled to what was just the right amount of scent to wear. We were just finishing up when Alice's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"How do you like it?" she asked.

"What?"

"Making love with him."

"Alice! I can't talk about that!" I gasped and my telltale skin blushed red.

"Oh, how I do love embarrassing you! Edward put his _bibitte_ in Bella's _galette_!" She sang and laughed heartily, twirling in the middle of the room. "But tell me, is it as good as they say?"

"You're a terrible sister; I take back all of the nice things I said to you earlier. Beside that, shouldn't you know yourself?"

Alice's grin turned into a pout. "That I should, but I don't."

"Are you waiting for something? Jasper has seemed so enamored of you; I can't believe that he wouldn't want to."

"Wanting to is not the problem, being able to is. Jasper is still recovering from his war injuries and he can't…he can't manage to…it doesn't always work the way it should."

I didn't know what to say to that revelation. My knowledge of carnal matters was so limited as it was, I felt that any advice I could offer would be woefully lacking.

"Perhaps with time it will get better?"

"Oh, I'm sure it will. I just know that it bothers him deeply. I suggested we talk to Tante Angélique about it, but he was too embarrassed, or I suppose I should say, absolutely mortified at the suggestion."

"Have you…tried anything else," I asked tentatively.

Alice cocked her head sideways and pursed her lips. "What would you suggest?"

"We've done other things. I don't think I can talk about it, Alice. I want to help you, but maybe you should ask someone else and not tell him."

"Do you think you could write it down? I don't want to deceive Jasper, and I think that if I could tell him it came from you, he wouldn't be as bothered."

I thought about it for a moment before adding a condition. "Only if you'll answer some questions for me in return. Edward told me about some things that I was hoping you could clarify for me."

Alice nodded. I stood and retrieved a scrap of paper and a fountain pen. Scribbling out a quick explanation, I handed the paper to Alice. She read over it rapidly, her eyes widening and a hint of pink coloring her cheekbones.

"I must say, I'm surprised at you, Bella. You're much more daring than I ever believed you to be. This is positively shocking!" She was only pretending to be disapproving though. The laughter she was trying so hard to suppress soon overcame her and she threw herself on the bed, rolling and giggling.

"Be careful; you'll have your gown all wrinkled if you don't cease this silliness! Now get up so I can whisper my questions in your ear."

Alice did as I asked and sat down beside me, silent giggles still racking her body. I cupped my hand around her ear and used my softest voice to ask the question, "By what means can a man prevent conception?"

"There's a number of ways I've heard of. Why do you ask? Does Edward not want to get you with child?"

"I don't know. He was speaking of events in his past and how he always used preventative measures with his former lovers. I was just curious as to what those might be."

"Bella, do you even know how a baby is made?"

"Not entirely," I answered, embarrassed by my own ignorance.

"He has to spill his seed inside of you. Has Edward been doing something different?"

"He um…I think he's been…it seems as though he's been spilling it on my belly," I stammered.

"I hope he was doing something other than that with his former lovers. While that may sometimes prevent conception, it's by no means a guarantee. Did he say anything else?"

"He mentioned disease prevention as well. What would he be preventing, the fever?"

Alice shivered in disgust. "Mon Dieux, who has he been laying with? _Fille de mauvaise vie_?"

"Yes, whores, Alice. He admitted to me that he's enjoyed the company of a multitude of women."

Alice frowned. Sensing my distress, she ran a soothing hand down my back and squeezed my shoulder. "Hopefully, he was using one of those new rubber prophylactics that are available for a high price. There are several other less appealing methods, but I can't see Edward using anything from a sheep."

I didn't ask; for once, I truly didn't want to know the details behind that statement.

"For your sake, I hope he has well and truly given up carousing. If he endangers your health in pursuit of his own amusements, I swear I'll dance naked in Congo Square and plead to Damballah-Wedo to intervene," Alice proclaimed dramatically.

We shared a laugh at that, though I knew Alice was fairly serious about her threats, and made ourselves ready to leave. The carriage was brought about and the hired driver held our hands to help us up.

We made the short trip to the Théâtre d'Orléans, and decamped the carriage, careful not to muddy our gowns or dirty our spotless gloves.

"What opera will they be performing?" It wasn't often that Father had allowed us to see performances, but sometimes the same operas would be put on over and over, so a few I knew by heart.

"La Traviata, again," Alice sighed.

"Hmm, how strangely appropriate."

"How so?"

"I'm sure Edward would agree with Violetta, '_Life is folly and only pleasure counts.'"_

"Hopefully he won't make it a fitting epitaph," she huffed.

"Even Violetta learned the advantages of one lover over many," I pointed out.

"Yes, but she died anyway. I don't want your great romance to end in tragedy."

"As long as we're never separated, I'm confidant that will not happen."

Alice eyed me strangely, but grabbed my hand and tugged me through the theatre doors. "Come on, let's get to our box before the lights go down. I want to have plenty of time to see and be seen."

Heading to our side of the theatre, we managed to successfully evade several acquaintances, and I for one was happy that none of our family members seemed to be in attendance. We made our way into our box, which was one of many reserved for the gens de coleur families, but was of course, separated from those of the wealthy white families.

Looking down on the main hall audience, I scanned the crowd for Edward's distinctive form. Catching sight of his dazzling and unusual hair color, I leaned over the rail to get a better look. I was surprised to find that the owner was not Edward, but a rather regal looking middle-aged woman, in the company of a blond-haired man who was surely her husband. I went back to seeking out Edward, but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Look, there," Alice grabbed my arm with her right and pointed down at the main aisle with her left.

Jasper came into view first, clasping a tiny, redheaded young lady by the crook of her elbow. His father and Edward's father followed behind him, and behind them was Edward. And just as Alice had assured me would occur, he was not alone. On his arm was a pretty brunette with a tiny waist and an expensive-looking gown.

I stared hard and Alice did the same. Neither of us moved an inch, and I'm fairly certain we didn't breathe either. When our gentlemen and their companions had made it down the aisle and halfway to their seats, I heard Alice begin muttering the same phrase again and again, but I hadn't a clue what it meant.

Just as they were about to take their seats, Jasper and Edward looked to each other and then both of their heads shot up at the same time. Alice slammed her elbow into mine to get my attention.

"Smile and appear unconcerned, Bella."

"Unconcerned?" I whisper-shrieked.

Alice flipped open her fan and replaced her glare with a blazing smile which would rival that of all the angels in heaven. Following her lead, I did the same. It was almost comical watching the myriad of expressions splashing across Edward and Jasper's faces. First they looked confused, then horror-struck, then…aroused? Edward probed the stiff collar of his dress-shirt with the long fingers of his right hand, as if trying to breath easier. Jasper used the back of his left hand to wipe the newly appearing sweat beads from his brow. The ladies were already seated and looked to them in confusion before craning their necks to see what had caught the attention of Jasper and Edward. Our gazes locked; the ladies look of confusion quickly turning to malice. I broadened my smile, but as any woman of experience would know, the smile I sported was not a welcoming grin, but a lightly concealed warning. I was staking my claim, and I had no intention of allowing any woman to access my territory.

The lights went down suddenly and the crowd hushed. The orchestra began playing moments later, and the curtain rose, the lights from the stage once again illuminating the darkened theatre. Edward and Jasper were now seated, but their faces were turned upward toward ours. Alice jammed her elbow into mine again and spoke out of the side of her mouth.

"Pretend like you're entranced with the opera and pay them no mind," she demanded.

Once again, I listened to her and kept my eyes on the stage. By the time the curtain went down on the first act, the strain of not looking at Edward was nearly killing me. I excused myself to Alice and fled the box, heading down the shadowy hall to the powder room. When I was all but there, a firm hand caught my arm while another clasped itself over my mouth, stifling my attempt at a scream and dragging me into a dim doorway.

"_She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless chimes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes: thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies._"

How dare he scare me half to death, then whisper the sweet words of Byron into my ear! I bit down harshly on his little finger and at the same time, stomped my heel into his foot. He released me with a muffled shout of pain and I spun away from him. Slowly slinking backwards, I looked to my left and right, soon realizing I had trapped myself in some type of storage closet. Looking forward, I caught the glint of Edward's eyes and the smirk that had settled across his face. His hands clasped either side of the doorframe, his body fully blocking my only exit.

I heard a sharp bang, his leg kicking at the door so quickly I almost missed it. The door slammed shut behind him, shrouding the small room in total darkness. Silence descended, only the sound of my labored breathing bouncing off the walls.

"Edward?"

**Useful links can be found on my twi thread or on my profile here. Alice mentions two terms that are Louisiana Creole/Cajun slang for male/female sex organs. Go forth and insert them into your everyday language so people can look at you strangely.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own. I'm just borrowing characters and playing with them. I want to borrow Rob and play with him. A lot. Nekkid.**

**Edited and re-posted 8/26/2010 thanks to Binky, Shelle87 & Emma :)**

**EPOV**

From the moment I saw my father lounging in the kitchen, I knew that the otherwise perfect day would be ruined. This feeling was even more evident as soon as he opened his mouth. He had never been a couth man, but I had hoped he would respect some boundaries and not insult Isabella in her own home. My hope was in vain.

If I hadn't been distracted by the shopkeeper's arrival, I'm sure that all hell would have broken loose in the kitchen and Isabella would have run in fear from the tirade I was eager to unleash.

Instead, I worked out my frustrations by ignoring his presence and rolling up my sleeves to help situate the new furnishings. I caught Isabella's gaze locked on my body nearly the whole time, and I may have added a few unnecessary muscle flexes to keep her attention. My body warmed and tingled, knowing that she was watching with barely disguised lust. She didn't seem to realize it, but her body gave her away. She licked her lips and chewed on them lightly, grasping them between her teeth and letting them slide out slowly before sucking them back in again. I wanted nothing more than to nibble on them myself, but I tried my best to keep from such distracting thoughts.

Often, her fingertips would dance along the neckline of her simple dress, teasing the skin that I knew was so very soft and infinitely caressable. I heard her breathing change as well. The closer I was to her in the room, the quicker her intakes of air became, and the more flushed her face would become. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that she cared deeply for me; however, I still didn't think that she should classify those feelings as love. I was not worthy of them, and not at all ready to receive them. Maybe someday when my father's warnings no longer sounded constantly in my mind, and when I could force myself to act in a more rational, constant and selfless manner, I could accept that she found me worthy of her love and respect.

After all the new items had been delivered and placed, I suggested a bath to Isabella, and when she asked if I would join her, it took everything in me to deny her. I knew that I had unfinished and most likely unpleasant business waiting to be taken care of in the kitchen. I also secretly hoped that Tanya had decided to remain outside and away from my father's prying eyes and ridiculous innuendo. The last thing she needed was another prickish bastard sniffing around her.

By the time I finally made it back to the kitchen, I found that my father hadn't so much as moved. He was sitting calmly, reading the Daily Picayne and drinking his fill of Isabella's café au lait. He hadn't yet noticed my return when I saw him remove a flask from his waistcoat pocket and dribble about a shot's worth into his cup.

"A bit early, isn't it?"

"It's never too early for fine Tennessee whiskey, Edward."

"Are you going to explain your presence, or am I to be left guessing?"

"Why so hostile? I expected you to be in a much better mood, or doesn't your fine lady know how to keep you happy?"

"Jesus, Father, just tell me what you want," I demanded in exasperation and extreme annoyance.

"You're coming with me today. We have important business to attend to, and I need you by my side. Jasper and his father will be there as well, acting as our lawyers. We'll most likely be busy late into the night. We have quite a few details to hash out."

I sighed. Spending the day with my father was without a doubt how I least wanted to spend my time, but since he led me to believe it was all about business, I hastily conceded.

I found Isabella in the bathtub and did my best to explain my hurried departure before meeting my father back downstairs. She didn't even question me, and I hoped that meant I was making fair progress on the trust front. I didn't want anything getting in the way of my bathtub fantasies coming to fruition. From the look on her face, I'd say she had the same idea.

On the way, we were joined by Jasper's father, and picked up Jasper at Alice's house, quickly leaving, as Alice looked mildly perturbed at our unexpected interruption. We all ambled slowly over to Antoine's on the rue St. Louis and I at least appreciated the guarantee of an excellent meal. Upon our arrival, we were escorted into a private dining room with several circular tables. The red-walled room was already filled with men, some locked in intense conversation, and some lounging back in their seats, smoking cigars and downing brandy from their snifters.

Following closely behind my father, we made the circuit of the room, shaking hands and introducing ourselves to anyone we hadn't met before. I recognized several men from the gaming rooms and sporting houses, and even a few from the quadroon ball. We were seated eventually, and I immediately lit a cheroot and then swallowed the entire contents of the snifter, which had just been put in front of me. I realized that it had been days since I had felt the familiar burn of liquor down the back of my throat, and at least that long since I had last sampled from my opium bottle. Depending on how the rest of the day went, I could see myself heavily engaging in both vices.

The meal dragged on, with intermittent interruptions by gentlemen inquiring as to my opinions on this or that issue. I tried to stay away from anything too political, claiming ignorance while really just trying not to get caught in any North/South arguments. Because secession seemed a topic suddenly at the front of everyone's minds, the chatter mainly consisted of securing Southern shipping routes and maintaining trade with Europe. I tried to pay attention, as this was never a concern for my father or I before. When we were in Chicago, trade was seldom hampered and the routes were nearly always secure. Of course, the occasional storm or pirate attack would cause us to lose a vessel or two, but this new threat of war was far more serious.

While some of the gentlemen were very hot-headed, expounding quite loudly on their desires to protect the sovereign right of the state of Louisiana to enact it's own laws without regard for the federal government, others were calmer and remarked that a true war between the States would never come to pass. I didn't know what to think, and I realized it was seldom that I thought on a grander scale than my own personal future. And I hardly ever contemplated any kind of future that was farther out than a few days. Since keeping company with Isabella, it had been the most I had contemplated the feelings of another human being in probably all my life.

After what felt like hours, gentlemen began departing until at last it was only Jasper and I, and our fathers. According to them, we were to attend the opera that evening and there was to be no argument. Since we weren't dressed for an evening out, we all left separately, and were told to report to the opera house in two hours time.

All my evening wear was still hanging in my quarters at the hotel, so I walked the short distance there, unlocking my door and finding everything just as I had left it several days before. I dressed carefully, pulling on my stiffly starched black wool trousers, a fresh dress shirt, collar, tie and ivory waistcoat.

The afternoon air was dreadfully hot so I delayed putting on the heavy wool coat, which was de rigueur for evenings out. Sitting on the side of the bed, I attached the diamond stud cufflinks my father had gifted me upon my return to Chicago, following my trip abroad several years ago. The suit I wore was bought while I was in England, the snob in me requiring the purchase from one of the most expensive tailors on Saville Row.

Checking my pocket watch, I noticed I still had more than an hour to waste. In my case, idle hands always did the devil's work, so it should come as no surprise that I began rifling through my drawers until I found what I hoped would make my evening mildly endurable. After taking a swig of the bitter liquid, I washed it down with the last few swallows from a bottle of gin I found by the foot of the bed and laid down.

Jerking awake when the sudden sound of knocking infiltrating my restless sleep, I rolled off the bed. As I rubbed my eyes, I also tried to shake off the visions of a brown-eyed, brown-haired girl, mixed with those of a green-eyed, bronze-haired lady that had disturbed my sleep, and stumbled my way to the door, finding a small boy waiting.

"Michie, your father sent me. He says you're late and I'm to get you to the opera."

I nodded, completely confused and groggy, but reasonably sure I wasn't hallucinating. I tossed the boy a coin and told him he could be on his way. Stepping back into the bedroom, I slipped on my coat and checked my reflection, smoothing down my ruffled hair and straightening my clothes. My eyes were a bit bloodshot and I looked a little pale, but otherwise I was the picture of a wealthy gentleman. Lastly, I pulled on my black leather boots and made sure my knife was still secreted inside.

I walked slowly, both because the evening heat was still stifling and the plain fact that I wasn't looking forward to my destination. There was a small crowd outside the theater, women in fancy dress and gentlemen shaking hands and talking loudly. I found my father, Jasper and his father standing near the doors, chatting with several other men and two young ladies.

"Edward, it's about time!" my father shouted when he caught sight of my approach.

Plastering on a jovial grin, I shrugged and moved to stand next to him.

"This is Monsieur Lafayette and his daughter, Miss Renata," he gestured to the pair in front of him, "and this is Monsieur DuBois and his daughter, Miss Chelsea. We thought it would be an excellent idea for you and Jasper to escort them this evening."

My father and his excellent ideas, always the bane of my existence. Fantastic, an evening with an insipid young girl flirting and fawning over me, and no doubt hoping I was marriage material. There was only one girl I wanted fawning over me, and she was at home, probably curled up in bed, waiting for my return.

"Pleasure to meet you," I lied through my teeth, "definitely an excellent idea," I added, fake charm oozing from my body.

"Let us go in and get seated, they're performing La Traviata tonight, and I wouldn't want to miss the opening brindisi," my father urged. Of course he wouldn't want to miss a song devoted to the pleasures of drink.

I took the arm of the girl called Renata, while Jasper did the same with Chelsea. Renata looked up at me with a bright smile and curled herself around my arm. She was passably attractive, but I really didn't give a deuce if she was the Queen of Sheba, she wasn't, nor would she ever be, anything to me. We made our way into the opera house, and being some of the last folks to arrive, found our seats quickly and quietly.

Without warning, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and a shiver raced down my back, followed by the distinct feeling that someone was looking down on me. I almost shook it off, as the opium often caused heightened senses and odd sensations, but I saw Jasper stop abruptly as well. We both turned our faces up to the balcony boxes and what we saw there surely threw us both for a loop. Alice and Isabella, both dressed to distract and seduce, sitting there smiling down at us as nonchalantly as could be. Isabella's dress dipped so low her bosom was almost entirely on display, the ridge of the bodice just covering where her nipples lay hidden. The vibrant red of the dress material shimmered under the lights of the chandelier. Her hair was arranged in an elaborate up-do with cascading ringlets, and her fair and flawless skin put every powdered and heavily made-up woman in the theater to shame, including the girl that I had just walked in with.

"Edward, sit down!" My father's shrill whisper came just as the lights went down. I hazarded a look around and found that I wasn't the only one captivated by the ladies in the balcony box. Poor Jasper's mouth hung open and his hands twitched. What was worse was that half the men in the audience were also blatantly staring with barely disguised longing. I flopped down in my seat, but immediately turned my head back to continue looking. The glare from the stage didn't accord me as much light as the chandeliers had, but I could still make her out, and I could tell she was no longer looking at me. In fact, she ignored my presence through the whole of Act I. For some reason, this annoyed me incredibly.

Making my excuses, I left my seat just before intermission and pretended to be going out for some air. Instead, I strode up to the balcony, intent on getting her attention. Deciding it would be bad form to march into her box and drag her out, I waited down the hall in a shadowy alcove to see if she would emerge on her own. As luck would have it, she came bustling down only a few moments later. I reached out, snaking her into my arms, where she writhed and twisted, trying to flee her unknown assailant. Seeking to ease her distress, I whispered a spot of poetry in her ear that reminded me of her. Women always seem to like that sort of thing. Except apparently for her, as she trod heavily on my foot and bit my pinky finger. She managed to get away, but instead of running down the hall, she dove through the door behind us and found herself backed into a corner. How convenient for me.

I kicked the door shut and felt my way forward in the tiny, pitch-black room.

"Edward?" Isabella squeaked.

"Were you expecting someone else? Maybe one of those gentlemen downstairs who couldn't take their eyes off of you?"

"I only saw you; I only care what your eyes see."

I lunged forward, desperate to have her in my arms that very second. My hands met her hips and pressed her against the back wall of the closet. I felt her fingers drag across my shoulders and secure themselves tightly in my hair, pulling my face down to hers. Our noses knocked together in the dark, but neither of us cared. Finally, our lips met and I forcefully thrust my tongue into her mouth, eager to have her taste on my lips. She followed suit, wrapping her tongue around mine and moaning in pleasure. My hands drifted upwards, sliding effortlessly on the shiny material of the dress until they reached the rim of her bodice. I remembered just how much of her had been on display and growled at the thought of all those men's eyes on what was mine. I pinched and squeezed her exposed bosom, probably a little too hard, but she didn't resist. What she did seem to mind was when I abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, but I had a particular goal in mind and ignored her whimpered complaints.

I went straight to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, bit down and sucked hard at her flesh until I was sure that she bore my mark, temporary as it may be. She threw her head back and crumbled into my arms, but as much as I would have enjoyed taking her down on the floor, I wanted her vertical, and I wanted her standing on her own; I would need both hands for what I was about to do.

Pushing her back against the wall, I allowed my right hand to venture all the way down to the bottom of her skirt and I pulled it up, hoop and all. It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but I managed to wedge it between us and free my hand to slide under the band of her pantaloons.

Her breathing had been heavy, but very nearly stopped altogether the closer my slow-moving fingertips got to where we both wanted them to be. Nudging her legs farther apart with my knee, I again caught her lips with mine just as my fingers found the soft, secret place that I swear God made just for me. She gasped against my mouth, her hips undulating ever so slightly on my unmoving hand. I curled my fingers, gathering her slickness and spreading it in unhurried, circular motions, before pressing them swiftly inside of her. Teasing her with the palm of my hand, I swirled my wrist and encouraged her hips to find a steady rhythm.

I could no longer deny myself the pleasure of her delicious breasts, so I freed them both from the top of her bodice and suckled the left and then the right. My only sadness was that it was so dark, my sense of sight was entirely cut off, and I could only take my gratification from their taste and feel.

Surprising me with her daring, I felt Isabella's hand travel my thigh from knee to hip, and then down to my cock, which had been hard since I first caught sight of her that evening. She traced the outline of it with a tender touch, and then clutched it in her hand as best she could through my trousers. While I certainly enjoyed the sensation caused by her curious wanderings, this moment was really meant to be all about her.

My hand joined hers for a few strokes, but I decided to punish myself by removing both of them and returning my full attention to her delectable body. I redoubled my efforts on both her magnificent breasts and her wet and needy cunt, driving her to the brink several times before backing off slowly and leaving her wanting. Finally, I ground my palm against her at a rate which I knew would give her the utmost satisfaction, and silently congratulated myself when I felt her squeeze and contract around my fingers, her breathy moans captured by my hungry mouth.

This time, I let her fall against me, obviously exhausted from both our efforts. Removing my hand from her pantaloons, I moved back so that her skirt would slip into place. I touched the spot on my ribcage where the hoop had dug into it and felt the tenderness; in all likelihood, I would be sporting an ugly bruise.

"I think the intermission is over," I whispered and flicked my tongue across her earlobe.

I felt her head nod against my cheek and I reached down to clasp her hand in mine. Pulling her delicately behind me, I cracked the door and peeked out, checking to make sure there were no dawdlers in hallway. When I turned back to her, she was busy adjusting her gown and patting her hair to make sure it had stayed in place. She did look somewhat the worse for wear, what with the rosy glow she was covered in and the mark I had left on her neck, it would be quite obvious to anyone who looked hard enough, what she had been up to.

"Do you think you could convince Alice to leave?"

"Are you leaving?"

"I can't. I'm sure my father's about to form a search party as it is."

"Humph, then I'm not leaving either!"

"I'll be home soon; I promise." I leaned forward and lightly kissed her lips, giving her my best beseeching expression. For but a moment, her eyes glazed over with desire, and I thought for sure she would acquiesce, but just as quickly, the fire returned and she backed away from me.

"I'll be in the box with Alice, and then I will return home after the opera is over. I'll expect your appearance in our rooms shortly thereafter, or perhaps you can find some other silly girl to play your fool. Maybe that one downstairs will meet you for a rendezvous?"

"Don't be daft, Isabella. If I wanted that girl, I could have had her flat on her back already. It's in your bed I'll be and none other."

I gripped her arm firmly and tugged her back into my arms, squelching her doubts with ravenous kiss. Voices echoed down the hallway, signally the advance of other opera goers and cutting our time short. I thrust her away and stalked toward the stairway, annoyed that it would likely still be several hours until I could feast upon her naked and writhing body in the comfort of our own room. Filial duty was the only thing keeping me from dashing out of the opera house and fulfilling my basest desires right away. Fantasies of having Isabella in every way on every surface and every square inch of our rooms flitted through my mind in great detail. By the time I reached my seat, I was all but hobbling in an effort to disguise my body's reaction to her.

I was surprised to find that the intermission was not yet over. The other members of my party stared at me in wonder, and I realized that while I had considered Isabella's appearance, I hadn't considered mine. I reached up and felt that my hair was in much disarray, and my once perfectly presentable suit was askew and harboring some telltale wrinkles. I smoothed it down as best I could and slid my hands through my hair.

Looking up behind me, I saw Isabella just as she took her seat. Alice fussed around her, fixing her up and no doubt badgering her with questions. I caught Isabella's eye and grinned facetiously, waiting for Alice to notice the deep purplish-red bruise. I wasn't disappointed. Alice let out a high-pitched squeal, which could be heard over the mumblings of the crowd. Isabella flipped her fan open, trying to hide her face, which was perfectly pink in embarrassment, but I could still see her narrowed eyes peaking over the top. Since I still had her attention, I was tempted to see how much more she could handle. I raised my right hand as if to wave, but instead, I slipped my index and middle finger between my lips and licked them thoroughly, savoring her taste on my tongue before releasing them with a pop. Isabella dropped the fan.

Smirking and giving her a wink, I turned in my seat as the music started, signaling the beginning of the next act. Just as she had, I completely ignored her presence above me through the rest of the opera, diligently keeping my eyes forward. The girl next to me (I had already forgotten her name) snuggled closer and closer, gripping my arm and wrapping her fingers around my wrist in the darkness. I did my best to ignore her advances and appear uninterested, which I truly was.

The end of the opera couldn't come soon enough, and when it finally did, I hastily stood up, wrenching my arm free. Gazing up to the balcony boxes, all I saw was a swatch of vibrant red as Isabella disappeared through the rear door.

Eventually, we all made it out onto the street and I was eager to make my escape. I could tell that my father would prefer us to continue to make mindless conversation, but my thoughts were already several blocks away on a brown-haired girl with fire in her eyes.

A familiar voice called out my name and I turned to find Emmett and his wife approaching.

"Emmett, Mrs. Cullen, did you enjoy the performance?" I inquired, happy to have an excuse to leave the others.

"We've seen it before, but my mother and father rarely attend so it was new to them. They were with us just a moment ago. I would have introduced you, but it seems they've abandoned us," he explained.

"Another time," I assured him.

"Of course. Will I be seeing you for a lesson this week?"

"Most likely. I do look forward to them immensely."

"Perhaps you'd join us for a meal afterwards? Rosie does love the chance to play hostess."

"I think that can be arranged. I'm sure I'd enjoy that very much," I answered. We took our leave of each other after making tentative plans, and I walked back, joining Jasper on the outskirts of our group.

"Father, I really do need to be going. Jasper and I have some early business meetings tomorrow, and I'd prefer to be well-rested." Jasper nodded in agreement, also clearly impatient to be on his way back to Alice.

My father raised his brow and eyed me suspiciously. I was certain he knew that I was lying, but it was really for the benefit of the ladies and their fathers and not him.

"I'll expect you in my new office sometime tomorrow. We have things to discuss. Jasper will tell you where it is."

I nodded in agreement and turned to bid the ladies good evening. They looked disappointed, which was ridiculous since we had ignored them all night, but Jasper and I both kissed their hands and said good night to their fathers as well.

Since we were both headed in the same direction, Jasper and I walked away together, our feet setting a swift pace.

"Your father's new office is right next to mine. Just a warning, you're bound to run into Charles Swan from time to time."

"Well, that's excellent news," I muttered, stopping to light a cheroot.

"He hasn't said anything to me, but then, I haven't been in the office very much the last few days."

"At home enjoying Alice?"

"As much as I can. It already seems like I wasn't really living before her. But you probably wouldn't understand that since Isabella's only a distraction for you."

"I'll certainly agree that she's distracting, but it's more than that."

"You're not telling me you're in love with her are you?" Jasper chuckled and shook his head. I merely shrugged and continued smoking.

"Are you?" His expression turned suddenly serious.

"What is love? I love my father because I'm supposed to. I love good liquor, beautiful women and fucking because that's what I'm accustomed to. Anything else is…uncertain, unknown, unpredictable, and that describes this whole situation we've found ourselves in. I don't like that my decisions directly affect another person now, and I have to take her needs into consideration, whereas before, the worst that could happen is that I would end up paying for my own mistakes, or dead."

Jasper sighed audibly. "Congratulations, Edward, it sounds like you've finally matured past adolescence."

"Shut your bastard mouth. Don't pretend that you're so much further evolved than I am."

Jasper's peals of laughter echoed around the near-empty street. "At least I understand my feelings. You clearly have no idea what you're doing. How long are you going to continue stumbling through life?"

"Oh look, here's my house," I pointed out glibly. "I suppose we'll have to continue this tomorrow. I truly do need to meet with you if you're available. There's some real estate I've been meaning to look into and I was hoping you'd be able to assist me."

"Now you want my advice?" The bastard was still smiling at me like he knew something I didn't. "Don't arrive too early. I have a feeling I'll be requiring a late start tomorrow."

"I have no intention of leaving my bed before noon, if at all possible. Meet me at Lafitte's around two?"

Jasper agreed and we parted ways. I raced up to the door and let my self in, continuing my sprint up the staircase and into the bedroom. Isabella sat in front of the vanity letting down her hair. Several candelabras added a soft glow to the room and highlighted the perfect contours of her face. I walked up behind her and ran my fingers over her shoulders and upper arms. She had already removed her dress, but was still covered by a light satin robe.

"I had Seth refill the tub for you," she said quietly. "I'd like you to bathe. You smell like her."

I dropped my hands guiltily. She was right; I should remove all traces of that other girl before I went anywhere near her. Even though it was completely innocent on my part, I still felt tainted by the girl's touch.

Backing away from her, I started to strip down, ridding myself of my fine suit and underclothes. Isabella watched me through the mirror, unabashedly staring while continuing to calmly brush her long hair. Stepping into the tub, I found the water pleasantly warm and comforting. There was enough room for me to stretch out fully, and it was deep enough that my limbs had adequate space to move. I decided it was the best purchase I had ever made.

I watched her, watching me, until she set the large, ivory-handled brush down and turned around. "Come here," I requested, my voice sounding husky and slightly unsure.

She approached slowly and sat warily on the rim of the tub. I grabbed for her hand, anxious to have the connection of skin to skin. A small smile gathered at the corner of her mouth, and she nibbled a bit on her bottom lip.

"I'm glad to see you made it home in good time."

"I would have been faster, but Jasper was with me and he wasn't up for a run."

Isabella snorted. "No, I imagine he wasn't."

She looked amused and then slightly guilty. "Something I should know?"

"Just thinking of something Alice told me."

I shifted my hand from hers and gently squeezed her hip, running my thumb along her lower back until I came across stiff material.

"What's this?"

"I still have my corset on underneath."

"That's a pity. Do you need assistance removing it?" I asked, giving her my best innocent expression.

She smiled and pulled on her robe so that it dropped off her shoulders. I reached for the ties and worked them apart by pushing my hand up under them and along her backbone. When the corset was loose enough, she slid it up over her head, leaving her in only a cotton chemise. She rose up from the side of the tub and removed that as well, stunning me pleasantly with the sight of her naked body. Her soft curves and plump breasts distracted me completely, leaving me both speechless and motionless. Well, some parts of me were moving.

"Shall I join you?"

I nodded dumbly, watching as she draped her legs over the rim of the tub and slid in. She nestled her legs on either side of mine and kneeled facing me. I ran my hands up her thighs and yanked her forward by her hips until I felt her warmth against my cock. Burying my face in her breasts, I hummed contentedly, stopping to nip and suckle every bit of her succulent flesh. She moved her hips slightly, rocking into me and driving my desire for her with every pass.

"Please, may I?"

"Yes."

My hand gripped my cock and I eased it inside of her, never feeling more satisfied with my existence than at that moment. Supporting herself by leaning her forearms on the tub rim, I helped Isabella move up and down on my shaft. The water sloshed noisily around us and most likely ended up on the floor, but at that moment, I wouldn't have cared if there were a sudden deluge. Watching her slowly ride me was like seeing the true definition of eroticism, from the look of passion on her face to the way the water droplets rolled down her breasts. I didn't know where to touch first or how to physically express my gratitude for the faith and love she so freely gave me.

So mesmerized was I, it took me a moment to notice that if we persisted at this rate, things would be coming to a head all too soon. I carefully nudged her off of me and drew both of our bodies out of the water. I stepped out of the tub first, and then picked her up, carrying her to the bed and laying her down so that her legs dangled over the side. Kneeling on the floor, I draped her legs over my shoulders. She shivered, whether it was from the chill of the air on her wet skin or from anticipation, I didn't know. Nestling my face between her legs, I lapped the water from the skin at her hips and the juncture of her thighs before delving lower. I heard her panting above me and looked up to see her resting on her forearms and watching me with undisguised curiosity. Rolling my tongue from bottom to top and back again, I saw her jaw drop open and the most salacious sounds issue forth from her mouth. Since it seemed so pleasing to her, I kept it up, varying the pace and direction and alternating tender suckles with light kisses. Before too long, her hand was tugging my hair, further encouraging and arousing me. I slipped my hands up and grasped a breast in each, rubbing and squeezing them in rhythm with my mouth. Her gasps and moans grew louder; her hands yanked at my hair and gripped the bed sheets. I even noticed her heels kicking and digging into my back when she finally let herself go completely unraveled.

As soon as she stilled, I leapt up from the floor and covered her body with mine. She threw her legs around my hips and pulled me down on top of her.

Looking very nearly frantic, she wrapped her hands around the back of my neck and kissed me firmly.

"I want you inside of me. Now."

Needing no additional encouragement, I aligned myself with her and fulfilled her wish in an instant. I was in such a state that I took her fast and hard. Her taste in my mouth and the sound of her moans sent me into a frenzy of desire from which I never wanted to emerge. It seemed she shared this frenzy, for as rough as I was, she was more so. Her nails raked my back and her teeth bit my lips. Her hips met mine again and again, not just receiving, but forcefully giving back as well. When I thought I might just die from exertion, I felt her stiffen and cry out, loudly screaming my name along with half the saints in heaven. My name rolling off her tongue in the heat of passion was my final breaking point. I withdrew from her just in time and spilled my seed between our bellies.

We both lay there, wholly exhausted and gasping for breath. I stared at her in wonder, as I had never had such an overpowering experience with anyone else. Because I knew she had to be uncomfortable, I dragged myself from the bed and dampened a rag to clean the evidence of our coupling from her tired body.

"You don't want me to carry your child; that's why you do that, isn't it?"

I looked down on her and grimaced. The thought of introducing a child into this world frightened and concerned me greatly.

"I don't think it's…wise."

"With me or in general?"

"With anyone. To be perfectly honest, I'm scared to death of the very idea."

"Oh."

Why do women insist on trying to have serious post-coital discussions? "Maybe it would be best to keep this until the morning?"

She nodded and slipped under the blanket. I joined her, curling myself around her and wrapping her up in my arms. Moments later, though she made no sound, I felt the unmistakable sensation of tears on my arm. I knew that nothing I could say at the time would make it better, so pushed her hair off her neck and nuzzled in close, laying soft, comforting kisses from her shoulder to the back of her ear until I noted her breathing steady into the tempo of sleep.

**Now, if you'll indulge me, I'm going to take a wee bit of time away from this and write a one-shot for the Age of Edward contest. I promise it won't be long, I already have it all outlined and stuff :)**

**Review if you so please.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to S Meyers. The plot is mine. The writing (be it good, bad or mediocre) is mine. Edward owns his own fuckery.**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I had entirely too much fun researching the European theatre of WWI because I'm a dork like that. If you check my fanfic author page, you'll find the one-shot I posted for the Age of Edward contest, and if you go to www (dot) Age of Edward (dot) com, you can read everybody else's too :)**

**I'm determined to finish this story up by the end of the year *puts nose to the grindstone*...mainly so I can start another one. Yeah know, new year, new story etc, so I'll be endeavoring to bring you faster updates :)**

**EPOV**

Isabella slept fitfully. She mumbled unintelligibly, her long lashes fluttering against her cheek and her pretty nose occasionally scrunching up and creating a concerned expression. I couldn't help but run my fingertip between her brows and down the bridge of her nose, smoothing the worry lines and causing a sigh to escape from her lips.

After several sleepless hours of watching her, I crept away from her warm body and slipped on the minimum amount of clothing that could be considered decent, and wandered downstairs to my study, where I had secreted several bottles of bourbon and a stash of cigars. Filling my glass, I sunk down behind my new desk and lit a cigar. Running my fingers on the polished edge, I appreciated the fine workmanship while plumes of smoke circled me.

The house was quiet, all of its residents sleeping but me. The quiet was both comforting and calming after so many late nights spent roaming the city streets looking for ways to get into trouble. But it also seemed strange. Who would have thought that I'd be pleased to stay home with one woman? Of course, Isabella wasn't just any woman. I reran the evening's events through my mind, the vision of her wearing the red gown in the opera box, her body quivering under my touch in the closet, and her sinking down around me in the tub.

No, I realized, no other woman would do. She was the only woman capable of binding me so tightly, and I found great and unexpected pleasure in how tightly bound I was.

But now she wanted to add children into the mix, the highest level of binding a man and woman could achieve, and I was wary. Without a doubt, the discussion would come in the morning, and I needed to have some answers.

I'd never really considered children, apart from the ways and means of avoiding them, but now, images of Isabella, her belly swollen with my child, made me wonder; did I want that? Why did it frighten me so? And, would I give in if she pleaded? I chuckled to myself, if Isabella pleaded, I would fold faster than I ever had at the poker table. But maybe I could convince her to wait, beg for a few years together before embarking on parenthood, push it off to a later date. We could compromise. Isabella, though stubborn, was far from unreasonable. I was confidant she would see the wisdom in waiting. In fact, waiting would be in her best interest. The more time that passed, the more convinced she would be that I would still be her lover.

I examined my argument from both sides and decided that it was flawless and Isabella would have no choice but to see it my way and agree.

With a decision reached, I stubbed out my cigar, swallowed the last bit of bourbon from my glass and proceeded back to our bed.

In my absence, Isabella had flung out all her limbs and was taking up most of the bed. She lay on her belly, her back exposed, the sheet snagged on her voluptuous rump. Again removing my clothes, I slid in beside her, gently repositioning her arms and legs so as to make room for myself. She immediately nestled in against my body, unconsciously seeking comfort in my arms.

I dozed for sometime, no doubt aided by the bourbon I'd just consumed, but it was a light sleep. As soon as Isabella began to wriggle and stretch, I awoke as well. Her naked limbs stroked mine, her face burrowed deeper into the crook of my neck. I smoothed down her hair, which had become wild from sleep and kissed her head. She giggled against my throat and threw her arms around my neck while hitching her leg over my hip. I certainly hadn't anticipated her waking up in an amoress frame of mind, but I'd never been one to turn down such an opportunity, so I didn't stop to question it.

Grasping her leg behind the knee, I entered her swiftly, my sudden action taking us both by surprise as I hadn't even consciously decided to do it. I moved inside her slowly, allowing her a moment to adjust to the unexpected, though seemingly welcome intrusion. As I continued on, her warm pants tickled the skin at my throat and her nails pressed into my shoulders, making pleasant shivers run down my back.

Locating the dark bruise I had left on her neck, I licked and nibbled it, at the same time feeling guilty for marring her flawless flesh, but also taking sick pride in the covetous display. Forcing myself to leave it alone to prevent it from becoming enlarged, I refocused my efforts on her breasts, taking each nipple into my mouth in turn.

Isabella's pants turned to soft whimpers and her leg tightened, drawing me in still closer. My hand slid down her thigh and gripped her ample derriere, holding her steady when my thrusts became less controlled and more frantic.

Finding her bottom lip and sucking it into my mouth, her pleasure-filled moans escalated until we both reached the ecstatic culmination of our coupling.

"I didn't think there was any chance of our morning starting this way," I remarked after several minutes of satisfied silence.

"I find it singularly difficult to stay upset with you," Isabella answered, looking displeased with herself.

"Forgiveness and compassion are admirable qualities, Isabella. Anyone forced to stay in my presence for very long needs to be quite capable of both, in spades, unfortunately."

She snorted and then sheepishly clapped her hand over her mouth. Laughing loudly at her expression, I pulled her close and rolled her so that she lay on my chest, and kissed her nose. Her bright red cheeks were very tempting, therefore, I kissed them as well, and pinched her sides to make her giggle and squirm. Of course, all that squirming on top of me came with its usual result.

"Edward!"

"What? I can't help it; you're too enticing for your own good," I insisted.

Isabella got a feral gleam in her eye, dropped her hips and deliberately rubbed herself against my cock. Grinning, she leaned down and twirled her tongue around my nipple before nipping it between her front teeth. I moved to grab for her, but she shimmied backwards and trailed her tongue down the line of hair on my belly. Biting my lip and fruitlessly attempting to suppress a groan, I watched her lick and nibble her way down, diverting from the path to run her teeth across my hipbones.

"We have something we need to discuss this morning," she whispered, her breath falling on my wet skin.

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe you could explain why you're so…" she stopped to lick the inside of my thigh, "apprehensive?"

"About what?" I managed to gasp.

"Me, I think."

She took a bit of skin between her lips and sucked. My hands clutched the sheets in a death grip. I was afraid to touch the headboard again as I didn't want to have it repaired twice in one week.

"Not at all. I have no doubts about you."

"Then why are you so hesitant?" Isabella flattened her tongue and licked my cock from base to tip.

"No, not hesitant…want you now," I growled.

"But how long will you want me for?" Her tongue circled my tip teasingly, barely touching it.

"Forever, I'll want you forever," I exclaimed, "Please, just…just…"

"What?" Again her tongue danced across the tip.

I threw back my head and groaned aloud. "Put me in your mouth again."

"Is that all you want me for?"

I looked down at her in disbelief. Her brow was arched, her eyes plainly questioning my motivations.

"Jesus Christ, Isabella, what are you trying to do to me?"

"I'm just looking for the truth behind the façade, using the only language you seem to understand."

"That's not fair. I can't think straight. You're frustrating me beyond all endurance."

"It's not fair that I'm frustrating you?" She squeezed my cock ever so slightly and brushed her lips across it. I wished it would listen to me and deflate, ending this game I didn't know how to play. "Your reticence frustrates me daily. You chose me, you chose to live this way, and yet, I feel you are not genuinely committed to sharing a life with me. You know how I feel; what do you feel?"

So she was trying to force my hand, get me to reveal something I wasn't sure existed or was capable of existing inside of me. Well, turn-about was fair play. I wasn't accustomed to losing games to anyone.

With a wink and a smirk I replied, "Why don't you put it in your pretty mouth and I'll show you what I'd like to feel."

An instant too late, I realized there was no real way to win this game. Isabella was up and off the bed, across the room and through to the dressing room, the violent banging of the door jolting me out of my stupor. Repeatedly bashing my head back against the pillow and dragging my fingers down my face, I threw a little tantrum alone in the bed. My cock bobbed along with the movement of my frustrated limbs, taunting me in its still erect state.

Several minutes later, Isabella emerged, fully dressed and pulling on her gloves. She snatched her hat, jammed the hatpin in it and headed for the doorway, all without glancing in my direction.

"Where are you going?" I demanded from the bed.

She turned her face to look at me, and fixed me with a glare so icy, it finally deflated my erection. Silently marching out of the room, she ignored me and slammed the door. Her heels clicked loudly down the stairs, and the echoing boom of the front door slamming reverberated up the staircase.

Dazed, I stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to chase her and drag her back. Finally slinking off the bed, I splashed water on my face and found clean clothes before heading downstairs. When I entered the kitchen, Tanya was already bustling around, baking and tending to the household chores. She had a smile on her face and was humming a tune under her breath. I knew it was wrong to be annoyed, but my mood was less than joyous, and I begrudged her morning chipperness.

Within moments of me dragging out my chair and sitting down, Tanya had a hot cup of coffee plunked in front of me.

"Breakfast, Michie?"

"Not hungry," I snapped.

She turned back to the hearth, but I could hear an under current of mumbling which sounded suspiciously like, "…man doesn't eat enough…too skinny…Northerners…tsk tsk."

I sighed. "Fine; bring me something. I don't care what it is."

A plate appeared before me with something that resembled French toast. "It's what the Missus likes," Tanya announced.

At the mention of Isabella, my foul mood increased, and I proceeded to stab at the sweet bread with unnecessary vigor. Tanya whipped around the kitchen with amazing efficiency considering her growing size. While I was happy that she looked healthier and was already putting on weight in the short time she'd been here, it also reminded me of Isabella…and babies…and irritating conversations resulting in me not getting what I wanted. I hadn't even had a chance to put forth my sensible argument, so thoroughly hashed out the night before in the study. Ridiculous woman, thwarting me at every turn.

"When is that child due to arrive?"

Tanya halted her movements, looked over her shoulder at me and shrugged.

"You should see someone," I suggested. "Aren't there women who…I don't know…handle that sort of thing?"

She nodded tentatively. "We'll ask Isabella; I'm sure she knows. What do you want to do with it after it comes?"

"Do with it, Michie?" she whispered.

"I just thought that if you didn't want it around, we could take it back to the plantation and see if one of the other women would care for it."

"If that's what you want."

"I'm asking what you want. That _is_ James' child, isn't it?"

She nodded again. "Baby can't help who its father is, and if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not part with it."

"That's fine."

Tanya cleared my empty plate from the table and refilled my cup. "Why do women want babies so much anyway?" I asked sulkily.

Tanya grinned and rubbed her prominent belly. "Does the Missus want a petit bébé?"

"She's seems to think she does."

"And you don't want to make one with her?"

I snorted and Tanya's cheeks grew rosy red.

As she turned away again, she said, "Sometimes it's best to do what the Missus wants."

"That it is, Tanya, that it is."

It was several hours until my appointment with Jasper. Since I was already in a black mood, I gathered myself together and headed to my father's office. For once, he actually appeared to be hard at work. Scribbling fiercely at his desk, my father barely acknowledged my presence, leaving me to sit and ponder what he wanted of me.

"Edward, so good of you to finally come."

"I've been busy," I answered gruffly, displaying my aggravation.

"Too busy to help grow our business? That's a pity. Maybe it would be more important to you if I gave you a small salary instead of a bottomless coffer?"

"Is there a reason you're threatening me? How about you tell me what you want first?"

"I only want you here more often. I won't be around forever, you know. The business can't run itself."

"Now you've added guilt as well. Visits with you used to be much more enjoyable."

"That's because in Chicago, the business was already established and we could spend our days in brothels and saloons instead of boardrooms and the shipyard. We could still be there if you hadn't ruined it for us. Things are different here, and change is coming. We need to be prepared, or we could lose everything. As much as I would like it to be, life isn't all fun and games, and I'm sorry I've allowed you to think that for so long."

My father paused to get up from behind his desk and pace the floor in front of me. "I will need you here daily, and you'll be down at the shipyards most afternoons to supervise. Am I getting through to you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent. Be in this office at eight tomorrow morning. And do make an effort to be sober."

"Strange advice coming from you," I quipped. Pulling myself out of the chair, I headed toward the door.

"Eight o'clock, Edward."

"I'm not hard of hearing yet, Father. I'll be here," I replied dryly before finally making my escape.

It was still another hour until I could expect Jasper's arrival, but I ambled over to Lafitte's anyway. Sitting in a dark corner, I ordered two bottles of pinot noir and started right in on the first. By the time Jasper swept through the door, I was not only moody, but also drunk.

"You look like hell."

"I always appreciate your candor, Jasper."

"Is there a reason why my morning in bed alone with Alice was intruded upon by a crying female that should have been residing with you?" he asked as he pulled out his chair and sat down.

"Oh, is that where she went? She didn't stop to inform me before slamming all the doors and marching off."

"Having trouble keeping your woman under control?"

"Shut up and open the other bottle. It appears that I've finished this one."

Jasper removed the cork and poured himself a glass before he returned the bottle to my eager hands.

"Was she still there when you left?"

"Who?"

"Isabella, you dolt. Like I care about anyone else!"

"Yes, she was still there, but she also seemed to be under the impression that you didn't care about her either."

"We may have had a difference of opinion. I may have quite possibly insulted her and she may have caused my cock to crawl back into my body in fear for its safety."

"That's ridiculous, Edward, that girl isn't going to hurt you."

"You didn't see how capable she is with a hat pin."

"I'm taking your wine away."

"Fine, it's not like I don't have more at home."

"You mean Isabella's home."

"Right."

"Maybe she won't even let you back in."

"That reminds me of the reason for this lunch excursion. I was going to have a house built, but I think I'd rather you find one for me that's already available. I'd like to have somewhere to go if Isabella changes the locks. And I need you to arrange a large transfer of funds to James LaFontaine."

"Do I even want to know why you need to do that?"

"Business transaction."

Jasper cocked his brow and regarded me with disbelief. "Fine, I'll handle it, and I'll look around for available properties for you. Give me a few days and then we'll take a walk uptown."

"Good enough," I replied.

Stripping off my coat, I slung it on the back of the chair and rolled up my sleeves before loosening my collar.

"Jesus, Edward, I take that back, Isabella is obviously lethal."

"What?"

Jasper leaned over the table and lightly poked at my neck, just under my collar. Since he had brought my attention to it, I realized the area was a little tender.

"It looks like she bit the hell out of your neck!"

While Jasper was busy doubling over with laughter, I quickly re-buttoned my collar to conceal the mark.

"You never did say what she was so upset about," he continued after recovering from his fit of giggles.

"She wants babies. Or at least she thinks she wants babies."

"I don't understand. What's the problem?"

I raised a brow and looked at him as if he were dense. "Isn't it obvious? She wants babies with me. Do_ you_ think that's a good idea?"

"Honestly Edward, what did you expect? It's kind of the natural chain of events."

I groaned, sat back and downed another full glass of wine. I was beginning to forget my carefully thought out argument. Drumming my fingers on the table, I tried to string my thoughts into some sort of coherency.

"I just want her to wait, that's all."

"Did you tell her that?"

"No, not exactly. And then she wanted me to confess my undying love and devotion to her, and I couldn't."

"Well, that explains the hysterical crying."

"Thanks, Jasper. If I wanted more guilt ladled on me, I would have stayed with my father longer."

"Listen, it's clear that you care for her, so what's the issue with telling her so?"

"I have; at least I think I have."

"You'll have to do better than that, Edward."

"How can I tell her I feel something that I'm not sure is even there? I'm not going to lie to her. That isn't fair at all. Simply put, she deserves a hell of a lot more than I can offer."

"But she _chose _you. Don't be an ass and ruin things. I think you need to decide what your feelings are, and then tell her what you're able to give so she knows ahead of time whether she should wait things out with you or go back to her parents."

_Don't be an ass and ruin things. _Jasper's words went round and round my brain while I finished off the last of the second bottle.

"You should go home and wait for her. Fix this while you're still able. I have to go; Alice is waiting for me, and she'll probably want me to tell her everything as soon as I get in the door."

"Having trouble keeping your woman under control?" I teased, using his own words against him.

"The difference between you and I, Edward, is that I don't even try." Jasper smirked and got up, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

Unfortunately, my thoughts were all over the place. Between Isabella's demands, my father's new requirements and Jasper and Tanya's attempts at advice, I was more thoroughly confused than ever before. One thing I did know was that if I didn't soon get up, I was going to pass out right at the table.

Stumbling out of the bar and back out onto the street, I squinted against the intrusion of the bright sunlight and tried to decide on a direction. After ambling one way for a number of blocks, I ended up on the banks of the Mississippi. Realizing that I had gone in completely the wrong direction, I turned around with the intention of going back, but decided to rest against a building when I felt dizzy. Crouching in the doorway, I put my head between my knees and counted my breaths, waiting for the wooziness to pass. I just wanted to get home and fall in my bed, but I couldn't quite figure out where exactly I was.

Abruptly, the door swung open behind me, and I nearly fell forward in surprise.

"Oh, look what we have here," a soft, feminine voice beckoned.

"I don't know; he looks a little ill, Maria."

"We should help him; don't you think? Nettie, Lucy, grab his arms and pull him up."

Gentle but firm fingers wrapped around my biceps and tugged me backwards, through the open doorway and into the foyer. For a second I considered arguing, but I just didn't have the energy.

"Do you think he has any money?"

"Don't be silly, look at his fine clothes, of course he does."

Two sets of hands ran over my chest, dug in the pockets of my waistcoat and then my trouser pockets, where they found what they were looking for.

"He's awfully handsome, but none-too-bright. Who goes out and gets this drunk with this much gold in his pockets?"

"I suppose it's our lucky day. We didn't even have to go out and find him, he came right to us!"

The ladies erupted into giggles. I thought there were three, but my vision was blurred and they moved around quickly with giddy excitement, squealing and talking over each other.

"Get him over to the sofa before he collapses."

"He isn't going to be much fun in this condition."

"Get him some water, he's young, he'll sober up soon enough."

"Get his coat off."

"Might as well get his trousers while you're at it."

Hands jerked me forward and yanked at my clothes at the same time. I fell into something plush and supposed it was the sofa. All the sudden movements made me feel sick and it must have showed.

"Shit, I think he's going to throw up!"

A few deep breaths later and I had managed to placate my churning stomach, but the calm was not to last as one of the girls straddled my lap and started pulling my shirt from where it was tucked in my trousers. Another girl was down at my feet, trying to remove my boots, and the third was twirling in a circle singing some bawdy song.

_I went to the alehouse as an honest woman should_

_And a knave follow'd after as you know knaves wou'd,_

_Knaves will be knaves in every degree_

_I'll tell you by and by how this knave serv'd me._

_I call'd for my pot as an honest woman shou'd_

_And the knave drank't up as you know knaves wou'd_

_Knaves will be knaves in every degree_

_I'll tell you by and by how this knave serv'd me._

_I went into my bed as an honest woman shou'd_

_And the knave crept into't, as you know knaves wou'd_

_Knaves will be knaves in every degree_

_I'll tell you by and by how this knave serv'd me._

_I proved with child as an honest woman shou'd_

_And the knave ran away as you know knaves wou'd_

_Knaves will be knaves in every degree_

_And thus I have told you how this knave serv'd me._

'I proved with child as an honest woman shou'd.' For some reason, the line stuck in my head and desperately sought its significance.

Babies.

Isabella.

Three thieving whores stripping off my clothes.

_Don't be an ass and ruin things._

Swiftly, I rolled off the sofa, dumping two of the girls unceremoniously to the floor, and grabbed at my clothes, trying to hurriedly straighten myself out. They reached out for me again, but I smacked their hands away and raced back toward the door. I could hear them screeching their displeasure, but I didn't stop or look behind me.

Bursting out onto the street, I looked around to get my bearings, and then took off running in what I hoped was the right direction. I passed people on the street, and if I had stopped to notice their expressions, they were probably wondering if there was a lunatic on the loose, but I had ceased to care.

Finally, I began passing places that I recognized, and my muddled brain began to function with more efficiency. I found myself coming upon the rear of our house, and I scaled the fence, falling gracelessly into a patch of wisteria.

Exhausted, battered and still hopelessly intoxicated, I decided to stay where I was. If I crawled into the house in that condition, there was no telling what Isabella would have done, and I wasn't ready to hear her tell me that I was beyond redemption and that I should never come back. Life without Isabella was no longer something I cared to ponder. It was empty, a void of which I truly didn't want to return to. Even when she was mad and feisty and manipulative, I still wanted her, still needed her, still desired her far above all others. Was that not the basis for love?

If she wanted babies and romantic declarations, I would give them to her, shout it from the rooftop if she asked me to. I just had to get myself together, lie still for a few minutes and sober up.

The next thing I remember, a foot was not-so-gently nudging me in the side, and my eyes blinked open. Isabella was hovering over me, looking very displeased, possibly homicidal. Her mouth opened, and before she could start yelling or ordering me off the premises, I interjected.

"I'm in love with you."

**So it seems that a bunch of new people have jumped aboard. Leave me a note & tell me what you think...or not. Whatev floats your boat and all...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: *sigh* still not a piece of original fiction and never will be. As always, all Twilight elements, names etc belong to S Meyer.**

**A/N: Thanks to Binky & Emma for proving once again that I have no idea where to put a comma despite my many attempts to figure it out. They have inordinate amounts of patience for which I am thankful.**

**Thanks to everyone who checks in to read & review. I do endeavor to answer all of them, and if I missed you, it's by accident or you don't have your PMs turned on.**

BPOV

Of all the insufferable, insolent, audacious bastards in the world, I had to fall in love with this one. He lay there, passed out in the back garden, face up, clothes askew and reeking of alcohol. I approached him as one would approach an injured, wild animal; slowly, tentatively and with great stealth. His chest rose with shallow breaths, but the rest of him remained unmoving. Confident that he wasn't dead or gravely ill, I thrust my booted toes into his ribs less than gently in an effort to rouse him from his drunken stupor.

Tanya was the one to coming running and alert me to the strange sounds that were coming from behind the house. I didn't want to venture out on my own, but I wasn't about to put Tanya in harm's way. I had already sent Seth out to comb the streets looking for Edward. When Jasper had returned from their lunch meeting, he mentioned that Edward was already drunk when he got there and had continued to consume more and more wine until he was swaying in his seat.

I shouldn't have been surprised. It was obvious that Edward didn't handle conflict or pressure very well at all, and I had instigated both that morning. But still, I thought we had been making progress. I thought that he was ready to open up to me and just needed to be prodded in that direction. I was sorely mistaken.

When pushed too far, Edward reverted to the behavior I hadn't really seen for myself, only having learned of it through his startling admissions. I wondered how far did he go? Where had he gone after Jasper had left him? And what would I do when I heard the answers?

After several increasingly forceful nudges of my foot, Edward's eyes popped open, blinking repeatedly until he was able to focus on my face looming over him. I was so angry that he was putting me in this position, and I'm sure it showed clear as day on my face.

As I was opening my mouth to speak, Edward swiftly interrupted, stopping my words before they could escape my lips.

"I'm in love with you."

I felt my mouth open and close, but no words came out. His pronouncement was so unexpected, and his manner of delivery so ridiculous, I had no idea how to react.

"Please don't tell me to leave," he begged.

"It's your house, who am I to say whether you stay or go?"

"Actually, it's yours. I had it placed in your name in case something would happen to me," he explained.

"What, for example? If you're killed in a bar fight, or die in another woman's bed? You're doing yourself a great disservice, Edward. Look at the condition you've got yourself in!"

"I've had a very trying day," he answered with false solemnity.

I sank to the ground; the last few weeks filled with upheaval and uncertainty were pushing me to the brink. "I'm beginning to lose patience with your understatements," I muttered, shaking my head.

Taking my face in my hands, I covered my eyes and forced back angry tears.

"Jesus, you're not crying, are you?"

"No," I shook my head and kept my face hidden from his sight.

I could sense him moving near me, and I curled up, sitting back and bringing my knees up under my elbows, making myself small and protected.

Peeking through my fingers, I saw him crawling unsteadily toward me, and I further braced myself against his touch, but my traitorous skin still yearned for it.

Reaching for me, Edward tugged on my wrists, trying to extract my hands from my face. I simply burrowed behind my knees, hiding in childish fashion.

"Talk to me. Look at me," he pleaded.

"I just… can't anymore. This is too hard; I never imagined it would be this hard. This isn't how it happens in books. You're supposed to fall in love with me and grow into the man you're supposed to become. You're supposed to _want_ to be better."

After there was no response, I uncovered my eyes and sought his. His expression was a mix of dubiousness and hastily hidden mirth.

"Remind me to never bother perusing your favorite pieces of literature."

"I must sound painfully naïve," I snapped, "for you to be making fun at my expense. Are you never serious? I must admit, I can't even tell what's real and what's make believe in regards to you anymore."

Edward sighed and cupped my chin in his palm. "I may lie…" he cocked his head to the side and rolled his eyes, "…a lot, but I have never lied to you. This is me; this is how I am. I don't know how much it's possible for me to change, though I am trying. I know I disappoint you. I know that the things I do aren't always what they should be, but I do want to do better. And when I said that I was in love with you, I meant it."

"I want to believe you," I said, and I did, but he made it so difficult.

"What happened to you after Jasper left you? You look…disheveled."

"I tried to come straight home, but I got lost and ended up on the banks of the Mississippi."

"But, that's entirely the opposite direction!"

"I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time. Regardless, when I figured it out, I sat down to take a rest and ended up being dragged into a house by a pack of thieves, who pilfered everything in my pockets."

"A pack of thieves?" I questioned, knowing full well that Edward would look much more than slightly ruffled if ruffians had indeed attacked him.

He groaned and flopped down on his back, rubbing his hands roughly over his face.

"This isn't going to sound good."

"Your explanations seldom do."

"I think it was three ladies, possibly more as I was very confused and seeing double anyway."

"Three women pulled you into their house and robbed you?"

"Err, yes."

"And that's all that happened?"

"They may have tried to strip me naked and force themselves on me," he answered with his hands over his eyes.

I felt my eyes go wide and my skin heat up and prickle with rage. "I find it impossible to believe that three _ladies _had to force themselves on you! Especially knowing how drunk and susceptible to feminine wiles you are!"

Launching myself up off the ground, I turned to stomp angrily away, but was immediately hampered by Edward's surprisingly quick reflexes. He grabbed my ankle and held on tightly despite my best efforts to pull away.

"It's the truth. Believe it or not, Isabella, I haven't strayed from you, in thought or deed."

His voice was desperate, but his eyes were true. I stopped struggling and he loosened his grip.

"Sometimes, I feel like I won't ever be able to trust you. I'll always be wondering whether you're hiding things from me or purposely deceiving me. I love you, but I can't stand all of this pretext that follows you."

"I don't know that I can trust you either."

"Me?" When had I ever done anything to lose his trust, I indignantly wondered.

"You could leave. You could go back home, and I'd never see you again. I'm sure your father would be happy to arrange it. Or, you might decide right now that you are better off without the hassle and ridiculousness surrounding me, and choose to shut the door in my face."

I looked down at him and sighed. "As much as I might want to, I don't think I can. You've drawn me in, and I find myself so tangled up in your grasp that I don't know which way is up or down, or which path is the right one. I just know I want to be on the same path with you."

The back door creaked open and Tanya leaned out. "Everything is fine, Tanya. It was only Edward barreling into the garden. Has Seth returned?"

Through the dim light, I saw her nod and slip back inside.

"What happened to Seth?"

"I sent him out after you in case you were lying drunk in the streets. I didn't know what else to do."

Edward rose to his knees, shaking his head and trying to stand. I held my hand out for his and he slid his fingers between mine. Gazing at our clasped hands, he smiled sweetly and kissed my fingertips.

"I'm sorry I've made such a mess of things again," he whispered.

Finding his footing and rising up to his full height, he wrapped his arm around my waist and coaxed me toward the door.

"I'm sorry I tried to force your feelings. I should have known to leave well enough alone."

We crossed the threshold and made our way into the kitchen, shuffling past a staring Tanya and a perplexed looking Seth.

Edward's eyelids drooped, and his head dropped to my shoulder, nuzzling the crook of my neck and murmuring. I eased my arm around him and he allowed me to support some of his weight. He looked exhausted, as if trudging up the stairs may have been beyond his capabilities. Despite that, we did manage to make it up to our room, where Edward promptly slumped diagonally across the bed, groaned and fell asleep, still in his clothes.

Hands on my hips, I looked him over and decided I couldn't leave him that way, as he would be very uncomfortable, and he was also taking up nearly the whole bed. I slid off his boots, inadvertently discovering a rather large knife encased inside one of them, and then unsnapped his suspenders and wiggled his trousers down his firm, sinewy legs.

Pushing, nudging and yanking, I was finally able to remove most of his clothes and move him into a position in which it would be feasible for me to sleep beside him. He didn't bat an eye through the whole process, that's how deeply he slept. Crawling in next to him, I swiftly fell asleep as well.

The following morning, I awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps and water splashing. I turned over to find Edward trying to shave, pull on his trousers and smooth down his wild-from-sleep hair all at the same time.

"Were we supposed to be somewhere?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes and stretching my limbs.

"Not you. I, however, am to be at my father's office in approximately five minutes. Obviously, that isn't going to happen, and he will undoubtedly find some new and creative ways to annoy me. But, I did sleep fantastically and woke up next to the most stunning woman in New Orleans, so I believe I can handle whatever he chooses to unload on me."

"I forgave you, Edward. You don't have to fill my head with absurd compliments."

"Do you forgive me? You only said that you couldn't stay away. It's not the same thing. And I'm not being absurd, you are exceptionally stunning."

"You didn't forgive me either," I pointed out.

"In your case, there's nothing to forgive."

"I beg to differ, but if you insist, I suppose we may both consider ourselves forgiven."

Edward finished shaving and rinsed his face before patting it dry. "I have to go, and I don't know when I'll be home. I have no idea what my father has in store for me today."

"It seems that happens a lot."

"I think he prefers to keep me perpetually in the dark," Edward muttered, buttoning up his shirt and attaching his cuff links. "I should be down in the shipyards this afternoon, that much I do know."

I wriggled to the side of the bed and sat up. "At least that should limit the amount of trouble you can get into."

"One would think, but sometimes trouble follows me," he answered, winking and pulling up his suspenders.

"Edward," I addressed him sternly, "there is an end to my patience and forgiveness. Please don't find it."

He knelt down between my knees and gripped my hips in his hands. "I won't. I don't ever want to find the end of you."

His eyes trailed over me, and I could tell that he was unsure of whether I would welcome his embrace. Wrapping his suspenders in my clenched fists, I tugged him forward and gently pressed my lips to his. He responded immediately, sliding his palms to my lower back and inching his body that much closer to mine. Our lips moved together, but the kisses were airy and sweet.

"I really have to go," he whispered, pulling back to take a breath.

"You're already late," I pulled on his untied cravat, taunting him suggestively.

He growled low and deep, dropping his lips to my collarbones and giving them a tender suckle.

"You play the part of tempting succubus quite well, but I have to go. There'll be hell to pay if I don't. My father's even threatened to limit my access to money if I don't learn to behave myself. Strange coming from him, I know, but he seems fairly serious about getting this business up and running."

"Alright then, hold still." I tied his cravat and fixed his collar. Unable to resist the urge, I snapped his suspender straps-hard.

His eyes narrowed and his lips formed a sly grin. "My dear girl, that was highly uncalled for."

While I was distracted by his eyes, sparkling in amusement, his fingers moved up and dug into my ribs, making me writhe and giggle uncontrollably. Working myself free, I flipped onto my belly and tried crawling to the other side of the bed, but the moment my bottom was up in the air, I heard and felt a resounding smack. Clumsily tangled in the sheets and unable to make it off the bed in time, I could only watch as Edward snatched his boots and coat and made it out of the bedroom door, laughing merrily as he went.

The day dragged by slowly, and I read to pass the time. Tanya and Seth weren't much for conversation, and Alice didn't come by either. I could have gone to see her, but I worried that I would interrupt her time with Jasper and after my emotional display the day before, I was a bit embarrassed.

Curled up in an armchair in the library, I startled awake when I heard the front door open. It was late and the room was dark, but I was able to stumble my way out into the hall without hurting myself.

Edward trudged past me, dropping dirty clothing as he went. I found him in the kitchen, shoving bread into his mouth.

"We saved you a meal; it's been kept warm by the hearth."

He didn't even reply, he just dropped to his knee and pulled out the covered plate. Taking a moment to look him over, I saw that he was filthy, sweaty, sunburned and quite obviously, very grumpy.

He made quick work of his meal and then waltzed out the door and into the garden, stripping off his remaining clothes as he went. The man was truly shameless. Standing stark naked by the water pump, he filled a bucket and began to wash up with only the glow of the moon illuminating his activities.

I should have gone to find him some clean clothing, but instead, I stood in the doorway, enraptured with the sight of him. The water on his back glistened in the moonlight, and I followed it with my eyes as it rolled down his legs to the ground.

When he had finished, he shook his arms and legs to rid himself of the excess water and slicked his wet hair back out of his eyes. He came marching back up the walk, brushing past me with a lazy smirk and a shrug of his shoulders. Following him upstairs to our room, I noticed his sunburn extended across his entire back. He wouldn't be sleeping comfortably that night.

While Edward dove for the bed, I found a bottle of salve for his skin. Sitting astride his thighs, I gently applied the salve across his shoulder blades. He startled in painful surprise when my hand first made contact with his hot skin, but after a few moments, he settled down and groaned in relief.

"So I take it this was your father's punishment?"

"He thinks physical labor is the cure for my insubordination and general lack of giving a shit about what he wants. I've been put in charge of construction at the dockyard as well as some of the shipbuilding. It's a lot of hands-on work that I'm not accustomed to anymore. I haven't worked this hard since I was a boy. And I actually liked doing it then but now I just feel horrible."

I laughed a little at his whining. "You'll feel better after a few days."

Edward snorted in annoyance and dug his face into the pillow.

After I had finished with his back, I took pity on him and massaged his hips, backside and legs. He let out a few appreciative moans, but they quickly died into snores as he fell into a deep sleep.

The days followed the same pattern all the next week. Edward left early in the morning and returned after dark every night to shovel down a meal and fall sound asleep. Our interaction was limited to his barely-awake, grunted answers and my nightly rubdowns of his tired, abused muscles.

When the first week had passed, his pale skin finally stopped burning and pealing and darkened to a warm brown. The sun brought out the blonde aspects in his reddish-brown hair, making him appear all the more sun-kissed, and his body, which I had always found sumptuous and inviting, was even more so from the increased definition of his muscles. Watching his forearms twitch in his sleep was enough to drive me to distraction. Unfortunately for me, while he was even more appealing, he was also unavailable. Edward being gone from sunup to sundown severely limited our time together, and when he was home, he was too exhausted to do anything but eat and sleep. Selfishly, I hoped that Edward's father would soon allow him to return to less laborious activities.

Alice stopped by every day, but most of the time I was on my own. I tried drawing Tanya into conversation, but she was naturally quiet and maybe a little afraid of me. Seth was slightly more open, but there wasn't much I had in common with a fourteen-year-old boy.

Thinking I could use a change of scenery, I left late one afternoon for a walk. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to Edward and how much I missed him. Without much deliberation, my feet began the trek to the riverside, in search of the new shipyard. I ducked in and out of the crowded thoroughfares, passing the French Market without stopping for a treat.

Following the sound of banging hammers and sawing blades, I located the shipyard and carefully kept out of sight. I knew Edward wouldn't approve of me coming down to the docks, but I desperately wanted to see him.

After watching carefully for several minutes, I spotted him, shirt off and hair wild, in the hull of a ship in the midst of being constructed. Several men surrounded him, and it looked as if they were deliberating over blueprints, but I was too far away to see clearly. If I had had any doubts as to where Edward had been spending his days, this would certainly have cleared them up, but based on the condition he was in every night he came home, I hadn't really had any.

Edward was pointing and shouting, trying to get the men to understand the next course of action when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Having hidden myself behind some shrubbery in a side alley, I had an excellent view of the shipyard without exposing myself to the view of others, but apparently, I was not alone in wanting to see without being seen.

Monsieur LaFontaine stood about fifty feet further down from me, leaning against a river shack and smoking a cheroot while staring down on the shipyard. I wondered why he of all people would be there, when I was nearly certain he had no legitimate reason to be stalking the docks.

I felt the urge to further conceal myself, but avoided doing so, reasoning that I had nothing to fear from LaFontaine and even if I had, Edward was within shouting distance. Instead, I turned my head and focused back on Edward. I saw him climbing the half built mast; hand over hand, his sweaty hair matted to his head and the muscles of his back rippling in the summer sun. So enamored of the site was I, that I failed to notice LaFontaine's approach until he was almost upon me.

"It's been awhile, Bella. I didn't expect to see you here." His smile was deceptively pleasant.

I cleared my throat and tucked away my apprehension. "Bonswa, Monsieur LaFontaine. I was just out for a walk."

"And you happened to arrive here at the docks? Happy coincidence, I'd say."

"Happy for whom?"

"Me, of course. It's always a happy occasion to stumble on a beautiful lady out on her own. What brings you down here?"

I nodded my head in Edward's direction. "To see Edward. He's been so busy and I miss him so."

"That's right, you've paired off with him, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, he's a very lucky man; some might say unfairly lucky."

"How so?"

James snorted and came a step closer. "He has you, for one. He also has my plantation, my slaves _and_ my little Tanya. And I miss her. She was such a good little whore. I wonder if Edward enjoys her as much as I did?"

Disgusted, I turned to leave, but James grabbed my arm and spun me back around.

"Don't go so soon; we were just getting started." His smug voice grated on me, and I had to smother the urge to scream or slap him.

"I don't wish to start anything with you. If you'll kindly remove your hand, I'd like to go," I requested with quiet determination.

"Hmm, I don't know. I think I enjoy your company. If I let you go now, I might have to stop by your little house sometime; visit with you and my lovely Tanya. After all, she is due to have my progeny any day now, isn't she? It would only be polite to allow me a visit with my child, wouldn't it?"

"I think you forfeited that right when you gave Tanya up, and I don't think Edward would appreciate any such visits from you."

"And do you always do what Edward wants? I would bet he wouldn't like it much if he knew you were here right now, unprotected and alone. That's why you're hiding here, isn't it?"

"What goes on between Edward and I is none of your concern. Now please, let me go."

He laughed loudly and removed his hand from my arm. "Certainly, don't let me keep you."

Not wanting him to think I had any desire to stay in his presence, I turned and fled back down the alley toward the street. I was deeply concerned that he would follow me, so I returned to the house as quickly as possible, using only the well-traveled and pedestrian filled streets.

The house was quiet and seemingly empty when I opened the door and walked into the foyer, which was odd due to the time of day; Tanya should have been rattling around the kitchen preparing the evening meal.

"Tanya?" I called out, but was met with no answer.

I continued on toward the back of the house, finding nothing out of place, but none of its occupants either. When I entered the kitchen, I saw that the door to the garden hung open crookedly, as if it had been grabbed roughly and pulled slightly from its hinges.

"Tanya?" I called again, loud enough that it could be heard in the yard.

I was surprised by a muffled whimper behind me. Turning away from the door, I searched the room, ending up in front of the pantry alcove.

"Tanya? It's just me. Are you in here?"

It was dark in the alcove, and I didn't want to take the time to light a candle, so I felt my way past the shelves of canned goods until my foot bumped up against something on the floor. Reaching down in the dim light, my fingertips came in contact with Tanya's tiny body and I heard her barely audible whimper again.

Wrapping my hands around her arms, I tugged her out of the pantry and into the light of the kitchen.

Though heavily pregnant, Tanya was light as a feather. But it wasn't that that had me most concerned; it was the thick, red trail of blood that ran between her and the pantry alcove.

**Ruh-roh...**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: 18 chapters later...still not mine, still borrowing characters from S Meyers.**

**A/N: So... some might find this chapter odd, but I figured...shit...we're writing/reading fanfic based on a story about mythological creatures written by a Mormon lady...we should be down with weird, right?**

**That being said, I am not a practitioner of Voodoo, Hoodoo, Candomble, Arara, Umbanda etc...in fact, I'm not really a practitioner of anything, but I do find religion in general intensely interesting *shrugs* I'm a geek. Researching this was oh-so-much-fun :)**

**Thanks to Binky & Emma for the beta work...and never asking if I'm mental ;) And everyone who stops by to review, you make this so much more fun!**

EPOV

It had been the week from hell. My skin was in open revolt and my muscles and bones burned with exertion. I had been too exhausted to show Isabella any kind of physical affection beyond the occasional chaste morning kiss.

Years had gone by since I had last worked this hard. My grandfather had been alive then, and he took great pride in taking me, his only grandson, down to the Chicago docks to show me everything that one day I would own. But that was before I spent my time chasing loose women and drinking myself into a stupor with my friends; before scheming governors and overnight escapes by steamboat.

I had once taken great pride in helping the day laborers construct the massive ships and plan their routes. Little more than an annoyance when I first started, I was soon able to do just about any job, from simple construction to ship design. I was dedicated to impressing my grandfather and father, eager to show them that when the time came, I would be ready to take on the family business.

Over the years, I had lost that eagerness. It was swallowed by greed and laziness, sucked into an abyss and replaced by drinking and carousing. By force, I was now becoming reacquainted with it. The thrill of building something new and putting my trademark all over it was the one thing keeping me from completely bucking my father's authority. That and I really didn't want to have to scrounge around making money from gaming tables and the pittance my father would have allowed me to beg off of him. I did have some pride left.

I found myself actually enjoying working with my hands and directing the workers on site as opposed to supervising from afar and managing through overseers. But I was missing my Isabella; missing her contended sighs, her companionship, and most of all, her warm limbs wrapped tightly around me in a lover's embrace.

Determined to make it home early that evening and appreciate the day off that was coming the next, I was hustling the men even more than usual and trying to squeeze every bit of work out of them and myself before the sun set on another day. By late afternoon, I was satisfied with the progress we had made and sent everyone home early, myself included. Looking forward to a hot meal and a long soak in the tub, hopefully with a very wet and naked Isabella, I trotted home with renewed energy and enthusiasm.

The downstairs of the house appeared empty at first, but as I passed the staircase, I saw Seth huddled in the corner of the first step, curled in a ball with his hands over his ears. It didn't take long to understand why when I heard a volley of unearthly screams emanating from one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Taking the stairs three at a time, my long legs stretched fully, I vaulted past Seth without bothering to ask him what was going on. Sliding past Isabella's and my room and finding it vacant, I proceeded down the hall to Tanya's room, where I hadn't been since we had moved her in there.

Reaching the open door, I peered inside and found it bustling with females. The room was lit with numerous votives in seemingly intricate patterns. They casted amorphous shadows on the wall, which lent itself to extra eeriness. Renée was seated in the far corner, her rosary beads clutched firmly in her gloved hands, her lips forming silent prayers. Tanya, obviously in great pain and the source of the screams, lay on the bed with two women I didn't recognize kneeling between her legs. Isabella was seated on the mattress holding Tanya's outstretched hand and Alice was flitting all over the room, gathering supplies and humming quietly.

Noticing my presence, Isabella sprang up from the bed and came toward me, a very worried expression on her face.

"Edward, I didn't expect you home so soon."

"I was desperate to see you, but that doesn't matter much now," I shook my head and looked over her shoulder, "What's happening?"

A look of guilt crossed her face. "I went for a walk this afternoon, and when I returned, I found Tanya collapsed in the pantry. Seth was outside, petrified and hiding in the garden. It seems James came for a visit while I was gone and scared them both half to death. Seth thinks he was here to take them away and when Tanya wouldn't come willingly, he tried to force her, but he heard me coming in the front door and left."

"Fuck, that bastard needs to learn to stay gone. I don't want him near this house or any of us. He's poison."

"I know. Alice has made me privy to at least some of his misdeeds."

"I can assure you, he's done so much more, but we don't need to think on that now. How is Tanya? Will the baby be alright?"

"I don't know. She was bleeding so much and I panicked. I sent Seth down to Alice's right away. They only just arrived about a quarter hour before you."

"Who are the other two ladies? I don't remember seeing them before."

"Tante Angélique and her friend Zafrina. They'll deliver the baby, but you probably shouldn't stay up here to see that. Why don't you go downstairs and find something to eat? I know you must be tired."

Ignoring her suggestion, I continued, "I see your mother is here too. Have you spoken?"

"Not much, like I said, they haven't been here long, but I do have hope that she'll be willing to."

"Good. I don't like that your parents are upset with you because of me. I know that you love them and that the separation pains you, even though you try and hide it from me."

Our conversation was interrupted by another round of horrifying screams, leading me to wonder how women ever consented to conceiving children, let alone actually asking for it. Isabella smirked at me, looking like she knew exactly what I was thinking and reassuringly squeezed my hand.

"Isabella!" Alice waved her back toward the bed and the five of them huddled around Tanya, prodding her belly and whispering.

Eventually, Isabella drifted back over to me, wringing her hands and biting her lip.

"What's the matter now?" I inquired.

"The babies haven't turned. We have a hard night in store for us."

"Babies?"

"They've decided she's carrying twins, but her frame is so small, they can't get them turned around."

"What does that mean?"

"Things are about to get very interesting, Edward. You should really go downstairs."

"How interesting?"

"Angélique and Alice…and I suppose Zafrina too, they have a certain way of doing things. I don't think you're ready to see this."

"That's the wrong thing to tell a man like me. Now you've done nothing more than pique my interest."

Isabella sighed. "I warned you. If you're going to insist on staying, you had better sit in the corner and whatever you do, .."

Obediently, I dragged a chair into the back corner and sat down, waiting to see what had Isabella so serious and wary of my presence. She stayed at my side, my hand firmly clasped in hers.

"You aren't going to help?"

"No, Edward, I don't know much about delivering babies. And besides, I've never been called to this life."

"What life? What do you mean?"

"You'll see; just watch and be quiet."

Once again, doing as I was told, I sat and watched. Alice filled a cup and held it to Tanya's lips, aiding her in drinking down the brew.

"What is she giving her?" I whispered to Isabella.

"Herbs to dull the pain and a large quantity of rum, most likely."

Alice's near-silent humming increased in volume, and Zafrina and Angélique joined her in her song. Renée stayed in her seat, never looking away from her beads. The humming turned to a steady chant, its words unrecognizable to me, but it was beautiful in its lilting quality.

"They are calling on the _les invisibles _to grace us with their presence and bring about an intercession," Isabella explained before I could ask.

"And who might they be?"

"To you, the saints. To us, they are a link, an intermediary between our world and the _Gran Met _in heaven; the one God."

I stifled a snort. "You're right, this is going to be very…interesting."

"If you're going to be a doubting Thomas, I'll have to insist you go downstairs. Tanya can't afford to have your negativity ruining the ceremony."

I grew angry. "What Tanya can't afford is a bunch of hocus pocus going on while she lays there in agony. Perhaps I should see about getting a real doctor in here."

"No doctor will come here to see about a slave girl; I don't care how much money you throw at him. And really, what does a man know about bringing babies into this world? We've been doing it our way for millennia, don't think you know what's best here, Edward, because you don't, plain and simple. Alice wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for Angélique's abilities. I have the utmost confidence that if there's a way to save Tanya and the babies, Angélique will find it."

Chastened by Isabella's vehement insistence, I sat back and tried to behave myself. Kindly, she continued to offer explanations at intermittent intervals.

"Now they're calling on Papa Legba, Saint Peter to you. He's the keeper of the keys, remover of barriers, allowing the spirit world to comingle with ours."

Alice pulled open a bag and began removing statuary I recognized as images of the saints. Placing them carefully on Tanya's bureau, she made sure each was accompanied by its own votive.

"Mary the Virgin Mother has a place, as well as St. Expedite; he's a favorite of the slaves around here. He makes things happen faster, more expeditiously."

When Alice was finished with the display on the bureau, she crossed the room and opened the lid on a large basket I hadn't noticed. Reaching in with both hands, she started withdrawing something so bizarre, I had never thought I'd see one in my whole life. A thick, white snake wound up her arm slowly, until it wrapped around her shoulders and draped down both sides of her arms.

"What the hell, Isabella?"

"Oh, that's just Felix, Angélique's snake. Normally, he's just a pet, but tonight, he doubles as a representative, an incarnation, if you may. You've shown before that you are well-versed in the Bible; I'm sure you know the story of Moses and Pharaoh."

"In the Book of Exodus; Moses' staff morphs into a serpent by the grace of God. _Take thy rod and cast it before Pharaoh and it shall become a serpent._"

Isabella nodded. "Yes, Moses is a beloved figure amongst the slaves especially, though he is referred to as Danbala-Wedo here. After all, he brought his people out of bondage, of course he is revered."

Alice walked the snake over to the bed and placed it on the mattress, allowing it to slither up above Tanya's head. Instead of Tanya fearing it as I thought she would, she actually seemed to relax. Her cries quieted and her breathing became more even.

A late evening thunderstorm came up, the lightning strikes illuminating the room every few seconds. The thunder did much to drown out the sounds of the women. Zafrina brought another of the bags up onto the bed and began pulling out various jars. Angélique took the jars and poured their contents into a bowl, mixing them together and forming some sort of paste, which she then applied in a thick line near the base of Tanya's belly.

I gasped audibly when I saw the next item emerge from the bag. A flash of lightening caught the glint of cold steel in Angélique's hand.

"They're not…they're not going to cut her, are they?" I demanded to know.

"It may be the only way, Edward." Isabella's voice trembled and did little to instill any confidence in their abilities to perform such an act.

"They're going to kill her if they do that. The risk of infection alone…"

"That's what the paste is for. I really can't say more than that. This is beyond any knowledge that I have."

Tears littered her face and she covered her eyes. "I'm sorry; I don't handle blood well. I've seen entirely too much today."

I was half tempted to cover my eyes as well, but I couldn't do it. Alice kneeled by Tanya's side, clutching her hand and speaking softly to her, though Tanya was long past being able to respond. Felix had curled closer around her, laying his head on her shoulder. Renée's prayers grew louder and more fervent, while Angélique and Zafrina finished prepping the knife, first with their spit and then with the flame of one of the votives.

By the time I saw them lower the knife to her belly, I did look away, unable to stomach the sight and stunned by the volume and suddenness of Tanya's screams. I hid my face between my knees and covered my ears in cowardly fashion. Seth had the right idea after all; I would have much preferred hiding on the stairs, oblivious to the events inside this room.

All was silent for several anxious moments, but I was petrified of lifting my head. Isabella's hand was fisted in my hair so tightly my eyes pricked with tears, but she let go quickly when her name was called.

"Get the basin. Call Seth to bring the hot water. This is no time for dawdling! MOVE!"

Isabella jumped into action at her aunt's demands, but I still couldn't manage to look up until I heard the little cries, which signaled at least one baby had emerged alive. Deliberately not looking toward the bed, I watched Isabella fill the basin with water and take the first screaming infant from her aunt's grasp.

Stumbling to my feet, I made my way over to her and the baby in time for Angélique to thrust the second baby at Isabella, who had just managed to clean and wrap the first one.

For a moment, Isabella seemed unsure as to what to do, and then she looked at me and smiled, holding out the swaddled infant and waiting for me to open my arms. I looked at her in disbelief and shook my head rapidly. She cocked an eyebrow and waited, still holding the squiggling bundle.

"Just for a minute, Edward. I only have two hands you know."

Seeing no alternative, I opened my arms and Isabella handed over the child before swiftly taking the other one from Angélique. They were both small and noisy, neither one appearing to be too happy about their entrance into this world. I couldn't blame them.

Feeling nervous standing there, I crept back to the chair and sat down, placing the baby on the tops of my thighs and circling my arms around it. I had never held a baby before, or even been much in the presence of children. It felt foreign in my arms. Looking to Isabella for encouragement, I found her cradling the second infant.

"They're both boys, identical," she announced, smiling.

"And Tanya?" Isabella glanced toward the bed.

"Passed out from the pain, but they're stitching her up now. She made it through, that's all I can say for now."

I nodded and looked back down at the newborn in my lap. He had a full head of hair, a russet blonde mixture of tight corkscrew curls. Plump pink lips and a strong aquiline nose marked his little face, scrunched up and still crying.

"If you hold him to your chest, he might settle down. He needs to feel secure."

On her advice, I did just that, and he quieted, sucking his second and third fingers into his mouth.

"See, you're not so bad at this. Look how he's nuzzled into your neck," Isabella pointed out. "I could get used to seeing you like this," she grinned.

I rolled my eyes. Babies must make women lose their minds. How could she even think about having one after what we'd just seen?

"Don't get any ideas in your pretty little head. Two babies in this house are more than enough for now."

Her grin was immediately replaced with a pout. Yes, that confirmed it, babies made women insane.

After quite some time had passed and the hour had grown very late, the women had Tanya cleaned up and made as comfortable as could be expected considering what she had just been through. Makeshift bedding arrangements were made, all the women deciding that Tanya's condition was still too precarious for her to be left without proper care.

Convincing Isabella to leave the babies with Alice and come to bed in our room was more difficult. She fretted over them both, insisting that she should stay and sleep on the floor. Taking one look at her red eyes and tired features, I practically dragged her from the room.

Seth was asleep on the floor outside the door, something I noticed almost too late. The poor boy almost got a foot to the stomach. Pushing Isabella down the hall to our room, I got her inside and shut the door, slumping against the backside of it, my own weariness finally hitting me.

Isabella started stripping down, dumping her clothes on the floor at her feet. I was suddenly less tired. After washing her face and hands in the basin, she dropped to the bed, groaning and sighing as I had done the whole past week.

Drifting over to her side of the bed, I sat down beside her and ran my fingers across the soft fabric of her chemise. She moaned softly at my touch, so I continued, putting a little more pressure on the muscles of her back. Remembering that every night I had come home tired and sore she had taken the time to massage my aching body, I shed my dirty clothes and boots and climbed up, straddling her hips.

Pulling up her chemise so that it bunched under her arms and left the rest of her bare, I slipped my hands under the hem and began gently but firmly kneading her shoulders and neck. Her breathy moans grew louder, and I had to stop and tease her, if only to distract myself from my own burgeoning excitement.

"You had better quiet down; your relatives are in the next room!"

All sounds from Isabella abruptly ceased, and I couldn't help but snicker at her sudden display of chastity.

"But the walls are pretty thick, I think it's fine to keep breathing," I added.

She let out an audible exhale and shivered when I got distracted and only skimmed her skin with my fingertips.

"You were amazing tonight," I whispered into her ear, "I didn't expect you to be so capable."

"I didn't do that much, and you'll see just how capable I am when I'm in charge of meals for the foreseeable future."

"I'll eat it, whatever you make, even if it's just toast and cheese. But please don't burn down the house."

Isabella tried swatting at me, but it didn't work so well from the position she was in. Grabbing her hands and holding them down at her sides, I let my lips glide down her backbone, occasionally nipping and licking as I went. She wiggled and giggled under me while stifling her noises in the pillow.

"I think I'll have to stop. It seems you're incapable of being quiet."

She stilled immediately. "I'll be good."

"I didn't ask you to be good, only quiet."

I waited several seconds and then nipped her hip and waited for her reaction. She jerked a little, but didn't make a sound.

"Excellent, my dear girl, you're paying attention."

Removing my left hand from hers, I stroked her backside and then delved lower, between her legs. She was trying so hard not to make any noise, and I laughed silently, watching her hips move in conjunction with the rhythmic motions of my hand and her head bury deeper into the pillow.

With a nudge of my wrist, her legs spread farther apart, and I lowered myself between them, admittedly anxious to be inside her after a week of limited contact.

I joined us together, leaning my weight on my forearms and moving oh so slowly in and out, both because we were so tired and because I didn't want to rush what I had waited so long for.

"Missed you, Edward, missed this," she whispered.

"Me too, very much so. I couldn't wait to see you tonight, though it didn't turn out quite as I had expected."

"Were you shocked?"

I snorted. "A bit, yes."

I pushed her hair to the side so that my mouth had access to her neck. "I have to keep reminding myself that things are so much different here than they are in Chicago."

"You'd be surprised what goes on, even in Chicago, right under all of your noses."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Isabella took the opportunity to shock me herself by arching her back and drawing up her knees, shifting us and pulling me deeper inside her. I groaned and moved faster, shifting my weight to the left side and slipping my hand underneath of us in order to stroke her into a frenzy of need.

She responded without fail, circling her hips in such a way that she pushed back against my cock and took full advantage of my teasing fingers. All former thoughts of exhaustion fled as we both drove ourselves to the brink…and then over.

Falling to the side of her in a sweaty and satisfied heap, it was almost beyond my abilities to keep my eyes open and catch my breath. Isabella rolled over to me, placing her head on my shoulder and running her fingers through my chest hair and down my belly. She looked up at me and smiled before lightly kissing my lips.

"Thank you."


	19. Chapter 19

EPOV

Barely registering what Isabella had been saying, my eyes closed and I fell deeply asleep, awakening when the summer sun and the heavy late-morning heat drove me from the bed. Isabella must have arisen earlier, as she was nowhere to be seen. I slumped across the room to the pitcher and basin, splashed water on my face and searched the bureau for something clean and appropriate to wear since the house was filled with lady guests.

Flinging open the door, I was immediately met with the sound of squawking babies echoing from down the hall. I flinched and dragged my fingers down my face. It was too early for such racket, but I supposed that I would have to get used to it. Thumping my head against the doorframe, I tried to shake the cobwebs from my brain in an attempt to appear congenial to the ladies between my room and the kitchen, where I hoped to find fresh coffee and some form of sustenance.

I entered the kitchen and found it empty, no food prepared and no coffee brewed. I sighed. I could put together a ship, but not a meal. I could arrange shipping routes across the Atlantic, but I didn't know how to how to make coffee on my own.

Hearing muffled snickering from behind me, I turned around to find Seth half-hiding in the hallway.

"You wouldn't happen to know how a man can get some breakfast around here, would you?" I asked, irritated.

Seth nodded and gave me a toothy grin. "I 'spect we'll be on our own for meals. But don't worry, Michie, I can fix up something."

Taking a seat at the table, I waited patiently while Seth clanged and banged his way around the kitchen. Shortly thereafter, I was presented with a meal that wasn't pretty, but was certainly edible. Pulling out the chair next to me, I gestured for Seth to grab some for himself and have a seat.

"What's gone on this morning?" I asked between bites.

"Babies crying, babies eating, more crying. I don't know. I've just been following their orders."

"And Tanya?"

"Seems alright. She was awake and being fussed over."

I nodded and swallowed the last of the coffee. "Guess I should see for myself."

Creeping back upstairs, I quietly snuck a look into Tanya's now silent room. She lay on the bed, looking the worse for wear, but was in a better condition than I thought I'd find her. By the looks of things, Zafrina and Angélique were much more capable than I had given them credit for. They were still there, working diligently to assure her comfort and recovery.

Isabella stood by the window, one baby sleeping in her arms and the other nestled in a cradle she rocked with her foot. She looked both tired and radiant, and I wondered what early hour she had slipped from our bed.

Noticing me in the doorway, she crooked her finger and beckoned me in. I strode up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, propping my head on her shoulder so I could peer over at the tiny bundle she held.

"How are they?" I whispered to her.

"They seem to be fine, despite their hasty entry into this world."

"You should come back to bed. You look exhausted; a nap would do you good."

"A nap?" she snorted. "I'm not a fool, Edward. I know you're not interested in sleeping."

"You make it sound as if I'm the only insatiable one." I shook my head against her shoulder. "Besides, there would most definitely be sleeping involved, just not right away."

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I can't possibly sneak away right now. They need me."

I pouted. "I need you."

Isabella turned her head so I could see her face. One brow was questioningly raised and her eyes rolled. "Alice has gone home to freshen up a bit and my maman went back to the cottage. If you want to go back to bed, you're welcome to it, and I'll be in later, after Alice returns."

I sighed and nodded, lightly pecking her forehead before backing away from her and heading to our room. Yanking off my clothes, I lay atop the cool sheets and tried to ignore the hot, humid afternoon air.

Admittedly, I sulked a bit. I hated feeling ignored, and it made me want to do something stupid just to garner Isabella's attention. But I knew I had to get past that. I knew that what constituted my normal behavior had to change, and so I endeavored to be happy being by myself. Except that I was bored. Very bored.

I drummed my fingers on my chest and stared at the ceiling, silently willing Isabella to walk down the hall and into our room. And then I thought about all the things we could do to relieve my boredom.

Somewhere around that time, between imagining Isabella draped naked across the bed and covered in nothing but bubbles in the tub, I remembered one of the ways I could alleviate my boredom on my own.

Looking down, I noticed that my cock was decidedly in favor of the new plan. It had been quite awhile since I had bothered to do this by myself, and I realized I missed it. While nothing could ever replace the all-consuming sensations of being wrapped up in Isabella, there was nothing like being left alone to work through some of my more _inspired_ fantasies.

Taking myself in hand, I first reverted to the nameless faceless whores that once dominated my imagined encounters. Multiple women all ready to please and be pleased, the visuals of their sweaty skin being pounded against and their limbs contorted into every conceivable position. And for a short time, it worked. My hips rose and fell at a fevered pace and my hand squeezed and stroked my cock at the exact right moments. But something was missing.

It wasn't until the faceless females combined into one; one beautiful face, one tempting and devilishly tantalizing body that progress was really made.

For a moment I considered whether it was shameful to think of her like this, but I quickly decided that if she knew, she would much rather I think of her than anyone else. And that thought developed into a new idea.

_In my mind's eye, Isabella now stood watching attentively from the doorway. Slowly removing the dressing gown I had seen her in earlier, she walked across the room, her hips swaying in the seductive way that women had used since the dawn of time to mesmerize and entrance._

_Stopping at the foot of the bed, she lifted her leg so that one knee rested on the mattress, and I could see everything from her full breasts to her already wet and willing nether regions. The flush of arousal pinked her skin and her breathing increased in speed and became faintly audible in the otherwise silent room._

_I watched as Isabella's hands slid up from her sides to her chest, gathering her own breasts together while lightly squeezing them and running her thumbs across her pert nipples._

_The tip of her tongue ran across her lips, making them shine. She took her lower lip between her teeth, replicating a coy expression while at the same time drifting her hands down her abdomen and sliding them between her legs._

_Isabella's imagined strokes kept time with my own real ones. She watched and I watched, but as always, I made sure that she finished first. Removing her slickened fingers, she sucked them into her mouth one-by-one, with a self-satisfied grin, just as I had that night at the opera house._

The remembrance of her sweet taste on my lips sent me spiraling into climax, and I lay spent on the bed, tired and limp-limbed. Not wanting to be found that way, I groggily cleaned myself up and dove back across the bed, nearly instantly falling asleep.

When I at last awoke, the summer sun was low in the sky and I found I was no longer the bed's only occupant. Isabella lay next to me, sleeping heavily and ever so slightly snoring. I chuckled noiselessly at the sound and brushed my thumb under her bottom lip. Her mouth closed the whole way and the subtle sound stopped altogether.

As evening continued it's steady advance, I looked on as she slept, taking in her tender features and committing to memory every bit of exposed flesh. Her cotton chemise clung to her body where her warm skin perspired, and her hair curled around her face in damp ringlets. I wanted her just as much as ever, but knowing how worn out she was, I didn't want to disturb her sleep.

Eventually, her face scrunched up and she threw out her limbs, stretching and yawning.

"Mmm, Edward, how long have you been awake?" she asked sleepily.

"Not long, but long enough to know you snore in your sleep."

"I do not!" she exclaimed, swatting at my chest and sitting up.

I snickered and hooked her around the waist, keeping her weighted down to the bed.

"You're not allowed to leave; not now when I finally have you to myself."

I burrowed my face into her side, nuzzling into the curve of her hip. Isabella huffed in false annoyance and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

"Were you able to speak with your mother?" I asked, my voice muffled by the fabric of her chemise.

"Yes, we've made up, it seems, but according to her, Father is still very upset. I don't know if he'll ever be accepting of our arrangement."

"What made her change her mind?"

"I think she realized that if she's not speaking to me, she won't be able to enjoy the spoils of being a grandparent."

I groaned. "Why does it seem that that is all you women consider?"

Isabella frowned and appeared to ponder my question for some time.

"I thought you had changed your mind? I thought you wanted it too?" she asked sadly. "It seemed that way last night."

"I want what you want, but don't ask me to be terribly excited about the idea." I shook my head against the skin of her thigh. "Last night was…I didn't even think about it. We were both tired and I…I just…it happened," I finished lamely.

Her hand gently tousled my hair. "Are you ashamed of me? Do you not want children of mixed blood? Tell me so I can understand," she whispered despondently.

Immediately sitting up so I could look into her eyes, I cupped her chin and cheeks in my palms and brought are faces close together, our lips and the tips of our noses nearly touching.

"I could never be ashamed of you. Before you, I drifted and wasted my life in sin and debauchery, simply because I could. Before you, I didn't know what it was like to feel loved and taken care of. Before you, nobody held me accountable for anything or made me want anything more than that. You need to understand that my reticence has nothing to do with you. Jesus Christ, what if I'm terrible at it? What if I'm like my father?"

She shook her head lightly in my grip. "You could never be like him. You're a good man, Edward. I see it, even when you don't."

"I was very close to following in his footsteps. Even now, how can you be so sure that I won't? How am I supposed to let you take that risk?"

Isabella's hands mirrored mine, cupping my face in her palms. "You wouldn't abandon us." Her eyes narrowed and her expression changed abruptly. "And if you did, I would find you, drag you back, and let my father make good on his threats."

I barked a quick, nervous laugh. "I think he would like that."

"Undoubtedly. From what Maman says, he's just waiting for the day to come. Aren't you glad I have a bit more faith than that?"

I nodded and leaned in to catch her lips with mine. She dropped herself back down onto her back, taking me with her. I rested my weight on my forearms and enjoyed the long, slow kissing that we engaged in. When we finally stopped to catch our breath, I continued to stroke her face with my fingertip; all the while a new round of questioning came to mind.

"Have you ever thought of leaving Louisiana, permanently?"

Isabella looked at me as if I had grown a second head. "No, never. This is my home. Why would I ever want to leave?"

"I thought someday, if we went somewhere no one knew us, our names, or family, anything at all, we could be together without all this pretense."

She crooked her head to the side and pursed her lips. "How so?"

My face warmed and I felt uncharacteristically shy. "If no one knew us, wecouldmaybegetmarried?" I whispered.

Isabella smiled sadly and shook her head. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and she reached up to wipe them away.

"It makes me more happy than you can ever imagine that you would even suggest it, but I can't. I won't deny my family or pretend to be a white woman so that I'll have the privilege of being your wife. I can't imagine having to worry every day whether someone would find out and force us apart, or punish you. We're proud people, Edward, proud of our heritage and proud of our history. I won't turn my back on that."

I hadn't thought of it that way. I wanted to argue with her, but from her firm tone of voice, I knew it would be all for naught.

"I had a letter from Jacob today," she announced, "while we're on the subject of matrimony."

"Your brother, right? What does he say?"

"He's been in France for an age and it seems he'll be staying on there. He's marrying a girl from Marseilles. He won't ever be able to come back now."

"Why is that?" I wondered.

"She's white. If he comes home here, it won't matter how many papers he has showing that he's a free man, they'll hang him for it. In France, they're much more accepting."

"I'll take you there. If you want to see him, I'll make sure you get there. There's no prohibition against you leaving the States, is there?"

"You would take me?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course. If he can't come here, we can go to him."

"I desperately wanted to go with him when he left, but Father wouldn't allow it. I was so young anyway; I would've only been a burden. But with you I would happily go."

"Then we should plan on it. I'll have to talk my father into giving me leave from the shipyard. Maybe if I tell him I'm off to look for a wife overseas."

"Such a terrible son you are, tricking him like that." She laughed and grabbed my face, kissing me soundly and with gentle ferocity.

We spent the rest of the night expressing our mutual happiness in a variety of physically vigorous and imaginative ways, stopping only to scrounge up a meal late in the night when our bodies could do no more without nourishment.

The following day, I allowed Isabella to return to her post as nursemaid while I visited with Jasper at the home he shared with Alice.

"James is gone," he announced as soon as I had taken a seat.

"What? Where?"

"He came to collect the money you left for him, and told my secretary that he was leaving for Virginia this morning. I thought you might have been responsible for his abrupt departure."

"No, but that at least saves me the trouble of delivering him a good thrashing for coming near my property again. The boy, Seth, he says that it was James who caused Tanya and him such a fright," I explained.

"I know, Alice told me."

"Tell me this; how much do you know about Alice's activities?"

"She said you were in the room." Jasper smirked and poured each of us a glass of brandy. "You have to remember, I'm fairly used to that sort of thing. I know…some of what she does, but I don't need to know it all."

"Be glad you weren't there. I don't know what I was thinking. I should have hid in the stairwell with Seth."

Jasper laughed heartily. "That you should have. I'm thoroughly surprised you didn't piss yourself or pass out."

"I very nearly did; had my head between my legs at one point."

"Just wait until it's Bella there on the bed and your own child coming into the world."

"I don't want to think of that yet. I don't want to imagine her in that much pain. Maybe it'll be Alice first."

"Maybe…"

Jasper's pained expression worried me. "Something wrong?'

He immediately relaxed his face and in a more jovial tone added, "No, not at all. I can only hope that Alice and I will be so lucky." Changing

the subject, he said, "I found a house you might like, big, beautiful, ostentatious, and available for purchase right away."

"I'm interested. Mark me down for a showing."

The next few weeks were filled with work at the shipyard and when we could both manage it, play at home. Isabella seemed to delight in spending her every waking moment with Tanya and the babies, who were somewhat ridiculously named Marcus and Caius. Isabella had informed me that Tanya had chosen to name them after her uncles who had looked after her as a child but had long ago been sold away. While the sentiment was touching, I still thought the names in no way fit the tiny, bawling bundles.

The house that Jasper showed me fit all of my requirements, and so I bought it on the spot, arranging for my excess belongings to be shipped over from my rooms at the hotel and for the house to be sparsely furnished as well. I didn't really intend to spend much time there, but I needed to establish a residence in the city. And also, I had visions of sneaking Isabella there, where we could run down the halls naked and make as much noise as we wanted to with no one any the wiser.

Late in the year, my father began taking numerous business trips to different areas of the South. He left me in charge in his stead, and I reveled in running the yards without having to bow down to his opinions. The only thing I didn't enjoy was the near constant visits of the city's elite. For some reason, they had decided that my offices were the place to come and gossip like silly old women. No doubt my father had cultivated this environment, but I wanted no part in it and got rid of them as genteelly and quickly as possible. My place was in the shipyards, not stuck doling out my father's fine liquor to a bunch of bumbling old men who made sure to mention their eligible daughters at every chance.

I found time to keep up on my practices with Emmett, though they weren't as numerous as they had been. I often attended dinners with him and his wife too. Rosalie was still distant, but Emmett was always jovial and the conversation flowed without fail.

It was at one such dinner that everything changed. I should have known that things were going too well.

Emmett and I had finished our practice early and washed up before heading back to his house for dinner. We hustled in, laughing and shouting at each other as we often did, threw our things down and barreled into the dining room, prepared to gorge ourselves on whatever meal Rosalie had made for us.

Just about to throw ourselves into our seats, a loud throat clearing halted our raucous fun. I looked up to see two people sitting at the other end of the table, a blonde-haired man and a small, auburn-haired lady who must have been quite the head-turning beauty in her youth.

I looked to Emmett for introductions, but he appeared to be frozen in place. Finally, he stuttered out a question. "Mother? Father? I didn't know you were coming tonight."

The man spoke up. "We spoke with Rosalie today and we thought this might be the best time. I don't think it's advisable to wait any longer, especially with Mr. Masen so conveniently out of town." He stopped and looked to the woman on his left.

"Edward, we need to talk to you. Won't you please sit down?" she asked.

I complied though I was deep in a state of confusion. Her voice was utterly familiar, but I couldn't place it. Neither she nor her companion were Southerners, and I didn't think I had seen either of them before, at least not recently.

"What I'm about to tell you may be fairly shocking…"


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight. Still poor. Met Sam Bradley last weekend though, so that makes up for just about all the other crap in my life. I have also learned that being in the presence of good looking men with accents to die for literally turns my brain to mush and all I can do is stare at my feet and mumble. Way to look like a moron :( But my bff kept me from looking like a complete fool & she took a pic of us. Plus, he touched the small of my back. Be jealouz *snort***

**Edited and re-posted 12/23/10 Thanks to the lovely Binky & Emma :)**

"What I'm about to tell you may be fairly shocking…"

EPOV

"My name is Esme Cullen, and this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen, my husband." She stopped to slip her hand in his on the tabletop and gaze at him in nervous adoration. He smiled down at her and patted her hand soothingly, silently encouraging her to continue.

"I was born and grew up in Chicago, a spoiled, wealthy debutante without a care in the world. My parents gave me anything I wanted; I had only to ask. One night at a dinner party, I met a man who turned my life upside down." She paused there and looked down, cleared her throat and swiped her handkerchief under her eyes.

"He was handsome and rich, educated and entrancing. I was drawn to him and he to me. He courted me with unabashed enthusiasm, bringing me gifts, professing his love and promising to marry me. My parents were very impressed with him and encouraging of our romance. I worshipped him."

"We had only been involved a few weeks when we were left unchaperoned in the garden. That's how much my parents trusted him. We were all fools." She shook her head back and forth, the tears loosely falling down her cheeks.

"I allowed him to take certain…" her voice cracked, "liberties with my body which I should not have, and it was but a month later that my parents were put in the position of demanding that he marry me immediately."

"Mrs. Cullen," I broke in, "I fail to understand why you're telling me this?" I turned in my chair. "Emmett?"

Understanding my unspoken question, Emmett replied, "Just wait; you'll see soon enough how this pertains to you."

Rosalie came through the door behind Emmett, a frown on her face and her fingers fidgeting nervously with the handkerchief she held. She was followed by a maid bearing a tray of serving dishes and a butler who brought wine. All conversation ceased while the meal was laid out. Where moments before I had been starving, I could no longer will the desire to eat. I was nervous and apprehensive, somehow knowing that everything was about to change.

While I wasn't hungry any more, I did partake liberally in the wine that was offered, the fruit of the vine settling my jittery body. Rosalie sat down and everyone began the motions of eating, but not much food was actually consumed.

After several minutes of silence, Emmett cleared his throat and looked steadily at his mother. "It's best to get on with it, don't you think?"

"Of course, you're right," she answered.

I emptied another glass and signaled to the butler to refill it. Mrs. Cullen looked at me as if she wished to object but then thought better of it.

"Um, where was I?" she set down her fork and smoothed the napkin on her lap. "I was married quickly and moved to my husband's home to await the birth of our child. We were happy then, or so I thought. He worked every day and came home to me at night, always showering me with attention and affection. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world, after all, it's not often women of my class were able to marry for love."

"Time passed and our child was born." Her downcast eyes flitted over to me, and I felt a strange charge in the air, like everyone was holding their breath. "He was beautiful from the moment I first saw him; kicking, screaming and bellowing at the top of his little lungs." She paused and more tears fell from her eyes.

"My husband was overjoyed that he had a son. My father-in-law was living then and he was quite pleased that the family legacy had been secured with the birth of an heir. The baby was healthy and fit, but it took me many months to recover from the birth. It had been fairly traumatic for me, and I had developed an infection that required a doctor's care. Eventually, I was well again and able to care for the baby and myself, but after all that time had passed, something had changed."

"I came to realize that my husband had become less and less attentive, to the point where it was rare for me to see him for days at a time. When I did see him, it was usually in the nursery where he would spend his free time doting on our son. If I asked him where he had been, he would snap at me and insist he had been working, even when I could smell the foul aroma of whiskey and cheap perfume all over him. He never touched me again."

"The young doctor who had seen me through my illness continued to check on me regularly. He was pretty much the only person I spoke to on a regular basis, my husband having insisted on me staying at home all the time. My husband claimed it was for the sake of my health, but I believe he was trying to isolate me, to keep me from hearing the gossip and finding out what he was really up to."

"Two years passed and my son was crawling around and growing up so fast. I remember how his hair was always so unruly, no matter how hard the nanny would try and tame it. His eyes were bright and lively and his giggles were precious to my ears. He brought a lot of joy to my otherwise sad and depressing existence. It seemed to me that since I had dutifully provided the heir, I was no longer of any use to my husband. I can't adequately express how very lonely I had become."

Mrs. Cullen stopped again and retook her husband's hand. "And then one day, the doctor came and told me it was the last time he would be in to check on me, and I was devastated."

"He had been my only link to the outside world for more than a year. I looked forward to his visits and his conversation and couldn't imagine my life without him.

I explained my situation to him and revealed that my feelings for him had grown beyond that of friendship, and he broke down and admitted the same."

"That afternoon, brought on by the rush of emotion, we gave ourselves to each other, not knowing when or how we would ever be together again. After he left, it seemed that I sobbed for days. I knew I would never be able to get over him, and I often contemplated ending my life. The only thing that kept me from it was knowing that my little baby boy would be left motherless."

"In time, I found that I was again with child. At first, I was overjoyed from the knowledge that I carried the baby of my one true love, but it was short-lived for I feared what would happen when my husband found out, as there was no way it could be his. I hid it for a time, but I knew I couldn't hide it forever."

"Finally, I bribed a maid, and had a message delivered to the doctor, hoping against hope that he would be able to offer me a solution, and praying that he wouldn't abandon me to my fate."

"That very evening, I heard loud noises from downstairs. It sounded like someone was having a dreadful row, complete with shouting and furniture crashing. I hustled down the stairs and into my husband's study. My young doctor was there, and I knew our secret had been revealed."

Dr. Cullen broke in when his wife paused there. "As soon as I had received her letter, I raced over to their house to confront her husband. He had been my good friend since we were children, though our relationship had become strained after his marriage. You see, I knew all along that he was lying to her, only marrying her for her name, her dowry, and most of all, for her ability to provide him with a son. I didn't approve when he told me of his plan, but it's not like it was really anything out of the ordinary." He shrugged and sighed.

"I barely spoke to him after the wedding, but I heard mutual friends remark on how they didn't think it would be long before he was out and about on the town again. When Esme became ill after the birth of the child, he summoned me to his house and I took care of her to the best of my ability, but it was touch and go for quite awhile. I had to explain to him that I didn't think it was likely that she would ever be able to carry a child to term again. He was bitterly disappointed, and it didn't surprise me when he couldn't be bothered with her anymore."

"I spent a lot of time in Esme's presence, and I grew to love her, even though I knew that she wasn't mine to love. My friend began to be suspicious of my intentions and requested that I stop visiting their home. When I came that last day, it was with a heavy heart. I thought that it would be the last time I'd ever see Esme."

"The night of the argument, I feared for my life and for that of Esme. My friend had never before been violent, but he was used to always getting his way. He had never been betrayed in such a manner, and I knew that he would react terribly. He shouted, threw things around the room, threatened to expose us to public ridicule. Esme was in tears, watching from the staircase when it came to fisticuffs. We fought until we were both exhausted, bleeding and battered."

"Finally, he told me that I could take Esme and go. That she wasn't worth fighting over anyway." Dr. Cullen stopped and cupped his wife's face, directing his speech to her. "Of course, he was very, very wrong, my love."

Turning back to me, he continued, "We formed a gentlemen's agreement of sorts. I was to leave with Esme after reporting her dead. We were never to be seen in Chicago or anywhere else where we could easily be identified, and she had to leave her son behind. Believe me when I say, everything else was a mere minor inconvenience, but not being able to take the child was devastating to her. She cried for months, only being somewhat soothed by Emmett's birth."

"Esme took a new name, and we were married in a small town outside of St. Louis. After continuing down river, we eventually ended up in New Orleans and decided to begin our lives here, far away from anyone who would know Esme as who she had formerly been."

When silence once again descended on the room, I looked between the two of them and back to Emmett. I was not a stupid man, I knew what they were about to tell me, I just didn't want to believe it. I swallowed the last of my wine, rose from my chair and leaned across the table until my face was within inches of Esme's.

My voice sounded cruel and biting, even to my ears. "What do you want? My money? My loyalty? It's too late; you're too late. My mother is dead to me. Nothing you claim will change that."

Esme's eyes filled with tears again, but she steadfastly held my gaze. "In a way, you're right, Elizabeth Masen did die that day. But Edward, I am very much alive, and all I want is to make up for time lost. I've spent so many years loving you and missing you from afar. I was completely cut off. I didn't know anything about you or how your life was. I couldn't risk visiting you. I couldn't even write home to ask about you because everyone I knew thought I was dead."

I shook my head. "Not good enough, Mother. You chose to leave. You chose to walk out with your lover and abandon me. You were bored and lonely, so you latched onto my father's friend." Even as I said them, I knew I was twisting her words, but I was beyond angry. "I was but an inconvenience, wasn't I? Something to be discarded and left behind, a mistake, the product of lie upon lie!" My fist pounded on the table, beating a desperate rhythm to match my words.

"And you," I turned my ire on Emmett. I pointed my finger in his face and shouted, "You have known all along, haven't you? You pretended to be my friend. Why? Why would you do that?" I demanded to know.

Emmett looked me in the eye, sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't know the whole time, only the last few months. I wasn't pretending anything, I genuinely like you, and when I found out you were my brother, I was very happy, to say the least."

"And yet you said nothing. No one said anything. I've been in Louisiana for nearly a year…and nothing."

Esme broke in, "We weren't sure how to approach you. Believe me, as soon as I heard the rumors that you had arrived and saw you for myself, I wanted to tell you, but we were afraid of what might happen. We didn't know what kind of man you were or how you would handle it. When you first showed up, you were always with your father and you were doing things that led me to believe you had grown up to be just like him. I couldn't take the risk until I was sure you wouldn't run right to him and expose us."

"And you're so sure I won't now? Are you…were you seriously judging me? That's…" I paused, trying to find the right word to describe my feelings. "That's insane!"

"I tried not to, but Carlisle followed you at first and when he came home, he claimed that your activities were too atrocious and he refused to relay them to me. What was I supposed to think?"

"Oh, this gets better and better. You had me followed?" I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head. I picked up Emmett's wine glass and gulped from it. At any other time, I would have laughed at the expression on his face, but I was entirely too upset.

"Since Dr. Cullen here didn't have the heart to tell you about what your little boy was up to, I'll tell you myself."

"Edward, please don't do this," Carlisle begged, glancing wistfully in my mother's direction.

I shook it off and kept right on. "I had quite the education from my father. He taught me all about fulfilling my needs, my wants, my desires, without regard for anyone else. If Dr. Cullen had been truthful with you, he would have told you that I spent the majority of my time intoxicated in whore houses, gambling and fucking. He would have told you that I cared for no one and concerned myself with nothing that didn't directly benefit me."

The clatter of silverware was the only sound as Rosalie swept away from the table and out of the room. Emmett tossed me a disgusted look and followed after her. Dr. Cullen had dropped his head into his hands, and my mother stared at me, expressionless and glassy-eyed.

"My only loyalties lay with my father, and it was rare for me to go against him. He led; I followed. In all things."

"It wasn't your fault," my mother whispered.

I shook my head. "Of course it was. I knew I could have done things differently. I knew there were other ways."

"There wasn't anyone else to guide you," she argued.

"And why wasn't there?" I cocked my head to the side and raised my brows in question. "Oh, I know, because my mother was too busy being the town slut, running off with her husband's friend."

Dr. Cullen rose from his seat and addressed me in a calm, steady, but undeniably livid voice. "That's enough, Edward. We know you're angry, but I won't allow you to speak to Esme that way."

I snorted, backed up and headed toward the door. "Don't concern yourself; I won't be speaking with her again." I raised my voice in case Emmett and Rosalie were hovering outside the door. "And that goes for the rest of you as well. Don't bother me, follow me, or attempt to contact me. I don't want anything to do with any of you."

I couldn't get out of the house fast enough. Practically sprinting, I made it home in minutes. The downstairs was empty and dark. I could hear voices upstairs, but I didn't feel like seeing anyone in the state I was in. Creeping down the hall, I made it to my study and shuffled around, finding a bottle of Scotch and box of cheroots. I took both with me and slipped back outside, planting myself on the rear porch steps.

The air was crisp with a slight chill, but it was nothing in comparison to December nights in Chicago. Striking a match off of my boot, I lit a cheroot and wrenched the top off the Scotch.

I lounged there, drinking and smoking for more than an hour before I was discovered. The back door opened and Isabella sat down on the step behind me, pulling her dressing gown up and propping her legs at my sides. I ran my hands up and down them, appreciating the soft, supple skin I found there.

Leaning my head back into her lap, I gazed up at Isabella and frowned slightly. My vision was blurry and I couldn't focus on her eyes like I wanted to. She bent down and caught my bottom lip between her own, giving me an upside down kiss.

"What's wrong?" she whispered against my lips.

"Rough night."

"With Emmett? Is that even possible? From the way you've described him, I thought he was a constant ray of sunshine."

"I was deceived."

"By him?"

"By everyone."

She ran her fingers through my hair, gently scratching my scalp. "Whatever it is, it can't be so very bad. Tell me."

"I talked to my mother tonight."

Isabella looked at me strangely, reached down and picked up the half empty bottle of Scotch and took a long draught. She coughed a little, set the bottle back down and nodded for me to continue.

"I guess I should add that she's not dead after all."

"That is somewhat reassuring. How did this come about?"

"I went to dinner at Emmett's, and she surprised me there."

"What is she doing in New Orleans and how does she know Emmett?"

I relayed the story that I was told to Isabella. After her third gulp of Scotch, I took my bottle back and finished it myself. She was pensive and silent, rubbing my shoulders and staring off into the dark night.

"I wish you wouldn't insist on making yourself look bad."

"It doesn't matter. Everyone else already knows. I thought it would be polite to fill the little mother in. I think I want her to hate me. I certainly want to hate her."

"I think you should give it some time to sink in and then talk to them again."

"I don't know. What's to be gained from it all? I've gone this long without them."

"Maybe nothing's to be gained, but I still think you should try, eventually, when you've come to terms with the situation."

"My dear girl, you're always so reasonable." My head lolled back on her lap and I sighed. "You're so sweet…and beautiful…and naturally loving-all things which I am not."

"You are however, very drunk." She laughed and I loved the sound. I couldn't help but smile up at her.

"That I am." I reached up and pulled on her hair, which fell loosely down her shoulders. "Give your drunken lover a kiss and quiet his ramblings."

Isabella tried to do as I asked, but she was giggling too much and couldn't quite manage it. "I think I'm not the only one. That's what you get for drinking straight from the bottle. What a little lush you've turned out to be."

Sitting up, I pretended to ignore her giggle fit and lit another cheroot. I watched the smoke plumes in the moonlight, fascinated by their curling dance.

Just as I was about to put it again to my lips, Isabella snatched it from my fingers and put it to her own. "Don't inhale," I cautioned her.

"Don't worry, Edward. Jacob and I used to steal them from our father and smoke them with the other boys. I already know how it's done."

"What terrible little monsters you must have been, what with Alice off playing Voodoo queen and you running with the older boys."

"We were well looked after, and Jacob never would have let any harm come to me."

"You miss him?" I asked with just a bit of envy.

"He was my best friend. The best brother I could have ever asked for. I miss him very much. That's also one of the reasons I think you should reconsider shutting out Emmett. I know how much you like him, you should give it a chance."

I considered it for a moment, but I knew I was still too upset about him not telling me. I shook my head slowly. "No, not yet, maybe not ever."

Soon after, we made it inside and fell contentedly asleep, wrapped up in each other, the way I preferred to spend my nights.

The following days passed quickly as they often do during the holiday season. Isabella and I celebrated the New Year alone in my new house uptown. While she could not officially be lady of the house, we played as if she was. I consulted Isabella on all the furnishings, décor and anything else she felt we required. I only kept a caretaker on staff to limit any intrusions into our private life.

I felt terrible that we could only come and go under the cloak of darkness, but I knew it would be better for both of us if the neighbors had less to gossip about. The upside was all the time by ourselves. There was no one to drop in unexpectedly, no sleeping infants to disturb and no roaming servants to shock. I'd never been happier than I was during those times.

My father was gone for months at a time, traveling throughout the South, sometimes sending me telegraphs from Richmond, Atlanta, or Charleston. He said he was working on expanding our shipping routes, making business connections and looking into buying up land in other port cities. I didn't bother to pay much attention. My focus was on New Orleans and making sure everything ran smoothly on my end.

I experienced my first Carnival season, the parades and balls occupying all of our free time. Alice and Isabella worked together, sewing up costumes for each of us,

masking our identities and allowing all four of us to roam the streets hand in hand without worrying who would see and what they would say. Jasper and I danced the girls through ballrooms they were legally forbidden to enter and spirited them through areas of the city they had never seen.

We pretended to be carefree and for the most part, we were. My father made occasional return trips to New Orleans, but he mainly stayed away. Sometimes, I thought about my mother, Emmett and Rosalie, but they never attempted to contact me again, and I kept my distance from any place I thought it likely that I might run into one of them.

The year flew by and before I knew it, the holidays were once again upon us. Isabella always tried to tell me that she didn't want me wasting money on gifts for her, but I enjoyed buying them, and I knew she secretly loved receiving them. I had decided on a piece of jewelry, and one evening after I had closed up the office at the shipyards, I made my way over to Royal Street in search of the perfect diamond necklace.

After entering the shop and noticing the jeweler was busy with another customer, I took a seat and tried to patiently wait my turn. The customer appeared to be rather choosy and unable to make up his mind. I was only able to see his back, but his muffled voice sounded very familiar.

At last, he picked a piece and the jeweler boxed it up, smiling and telling the man he thought his wife would love it. The man turned, and his eyes fell on me.

"Edward?"

The sight of Emmett made me want to jump from the chair and flee the store, but I remained where I was. I knew that this moment would one day come, and the time was as good as any other.

"Emmett." I cleared my throat and stood.

"Perhaps we should speak outside?" he suggested.

I nodded and followed him to the door. Once we were clear of the doorway, he spun around to face me.

"I was hoping to run into you. It hasn't been the same at the school without you there to help me impress the students."

"I miss it too."

We were looking anywhere but at each other, both of us stalling and skirting around the past.

"I'm here," he pointed back to the jewelry shop, "because my Rosie, she just gave me a son. I thought I'd bring her something special home."

"Yeah? That's…that's good news, Emmett."

"Benjamin; that's his name. He's got a full head of reddish hair. It reminds me of Mother…and you. You should see him."

Emmett was beaming with pride, clearly very excited about the birth of his child, but I was still wary about any kind of involvement with my supposed 'family.' I looked down and shook my head. "I don't know, Emmett. I don't know that it would be a good idea. I don't want to intrude."

When he didn't reply, I looked up, meeting his eyes, and he spoke. "There would be no intrusion. We want you there."

A thousand reasons to say no raced through my mind, but something else told me to agree. "Alright, if you don't mind waiting, I need to make a purchase first."

"Not at all," he replied, following me back into the jeweler.

The jeweler, ever eager to make a sale, brought out several different necklaces to show me, but none of them were what I was looking for. Emmett stood behind me, gawking over my shoulder.

Leaning over the counter, I addressed the jeweler. "I want the best, most beautiful piece you have in the shop. I know you keep the good stuff hidden away. Why don't you bring out something from the back?"

The jeweler smiled and nodded before disappearing into the back room. Emmett raised his brows and looked at me questioningly. I shrugged and grinned, waiting to see what the little man would return with.

"This might interest you," he relayed after returning with a square, velvet box. "This necklace is imported from France and contains over one hundred and fifty diamonds, all of amazing quality."

I ghosted my hand over the surface of the jewels and imagined them gracing Isabella's neck and dangling down onto her breasts. "Perfect," I whispered.

The jeweler told me the price and I could hear Emmett stifling a choking sound. I pulled the required amount in gold coin from a sack in my breast pocket and dumped it out on the counter. The jeweler looked momentarily stunned, but recovered well.

After collecting my package, we left and proceeded on foot to Emmett's house. I remembered the way even though it had been a year since I last traversed the streets.

Emmett led me into the house and up the stairs to the master bedroom. The door was open and I hovered there after Emmett had entered, looking in to see my mother rocking the newborn infant and Rosalie ensconced in the bed watching them. They both saw me at the same time and released surprised gasps.

"Um, hello," I muttered, bracing my hands on the doorframe and staring at my feet.

The room was quiet and tense until Emmett scooped his child up from our mother's arms and brought him to me. Rosalie looked as if she might argue, but closed her mouth when Emmett glanced her way. He deposited the baby in my outstretched arms and stood at my elbow so that we could both see the child.

After Emmett pealed back the blanket, I saw that the child did indeed have a full head of hair the same shade as my own, and I grinned.

"Told you. And look at that," he ran his fingers through the soft, downy fuzz, "it even sticks up like yours." I snickered and rolled my eyes.

"You hold the baby so confidently," my mother declared, still in her seat across the room.

I looked up and met her eyes. "Practice, lots of practice."

She seemed troubled. "You have one of your own?" she asked, her voice trembling.

I shook my head slowly. As the months had passed and Isabella hadn't conceived, the topic only caused pain and rarely came up in our home anymore. "No, but our slave girl, Tanya, had twin boys last year. I've become accustomed to holding them, and when they're desperate, the ladies even ask me to look after them occasionally." I smiled proudly. I would probably never be terribly at ease handling them on my own, but I was happy that I was trusted to do so.

My mother nodded and opened her mouth to ask something else but closed it again, changing her mind. She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with her wedding band.

I handed the baby back to Emmett and shrugged against the doorframe, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"But you do have some woman you've been keeping for quite some time, don't you?" Rosalie's voice grated on my nerves. She had always been direct and forthright, but the subject of Isabella, and Rosalie and Emmett's disapproval of the situation, had usually been skirted around.

I cleared my throat and glared at her. "Yes, and you both know she's not just some woman."

"Hm, isn't she?" Rosalie grinned innocently, but I knew she was trying to be deliberately provocative; why she was doing so was what I didn't understand. "Why is it that we haven't met her then?"

"I didn't think she'd be welcome."

My mother broke in, "Of course she would. You should bring her to dinner."

I looked around the room in disbelief. "I don't know. You're all assuming I'll be coming back here, and I haven't decided whether I will or not. I don't trust you, nor am I even sure I care to cultivate this relationship."

Emmett's face fell. "We waited, we left you alone, we hoped you'd come around on your own. What can we do to convince you that we'd like you in our lives?"

"Stop judging me. I can see it now, you want to make conditions, and I won't have it. This is me, this is how I am now, and I'm finally happy after so many years of purposeless drifting."

"We're worried about you. I'm a mother, I worry."

My answer came out nastier than I had intended. "You lost your right to worry about me when you walked out the door!"

Chastened, my mother sat back in her chair and lowered her head again.

Feeling slightly guilty and not wanting to turn this conversation into a row, I muttered an apology. "Sorry."

"No, it's true. I shouldn't expect anything from you. I failed you in the worst way a mother can. But I want you to know, I'm not judging you. I want you to be happy, and if this girl makes you happy, I'm certainly not in any position to find fault with it. Please consider bringing her here."

I sighed. "I'll think about it."

I heard footsteps approaching from the hallway and turned around. Dr. Cullen was making his way toward the room. He saw me and froze, his eyebrows raised and his hands clenched behind his back.

"Edward?"

"I was just leaving," I said instead of answering. Brushing past him, I fled down the stairs and out to the street, ready to get home to the people I truly considered family.

That night, I told Isabella all about the meeting at Emmett's house. I made it a priority to tell her everything and not keep her in the dark. I found that it prevented me a lot of trouble in the long run if I told her my activities right away.

I doubted we'd ever really be invited to dinner with the Cullen's and so I was very much surprised to find an invitation delivered the next morning. Tanya handed it to me on my way out the door to the shipyards.

"Came just after dawn, Michie," she said, shifting Marcus from one hip to the other.

I patted the half-awake boy on the head. "Thanks, give it to Isabella and we'll talk about it when I return tonight."

I thought about it all day long, and it distracted from my work. Since I wasn't getting anything done, I left early, giving the men a break they weren't used to. While she hadn't seemed opposed when I told her about it the night before, I worried about how Isabella would feel now that the possibility had become reality. I simply had to know her feelings on the subject before I could wrap my mind around my own.

**2 regular chapters/epi/smuttake to go...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: *yawn* Don't own. Only borrowing. SM owns all things Twilight.**

**A/N: So very sorry for the delay-I finally !YAY! got a job, but I started right when I had final exams & projects due as well so I had no time for anything I actually WANTED to do *sigh* which unfortunately included writing this and answering reviews, though of course I did read and appreciate them all :) **

**Unbeta'd for the time being as I think it would be terribly rude of me to badger my lovely editors on a holiday. **

**My gift to you...whether you want it or not ;)**

EPOV

I arrived home to find Alice, Isabella and Tanya lounging on the floor of the nursery, playing with the twins. They had begun walking in the last few months and were now into everything. We tried to keep them cordoned off in the nursery to keep them out of trouble, and most importantly, out of _my_ things.

Isabella sprang up to greet me, but Alice was slower. Tanya tried to pull her up, but it was difficult due to Alice's advanced state of pregnancy. She more or less rolled around until she could propel herself to her knees. I couldn't help but chuckle at her ridiculousness, but it was quickly quelled by Alice's dark glare and Isabella's wistful expression.

"You're home early; that's unusual," Isabella commented, wrapping her arms around my neck and drawing me into an embrace. "Miss me?" she asked, brushing her lips across my jaw.

"Always," I grinned and splayed my fingers across her hips, "but that's not really why I'm here."

She hummed against my neck. "Too bad."

I felt a pull on my trouser leg and looked down to see two little faces gazing up at me. Now that they were able to get around by themselves, they followed me everywhere when I was at home.

"Yes?"

They giggled and started climbing my leg. I had no idea why they always picked me to bother; it's not like I was the most affectionate of human beings. Hoisting both of them in my arms, I let them pull my hair and tug on my ears to their little heart's content. Isabella and Alice laughed while I rolled my eyes and groaned.

"So if it wasn't for me, why are you home?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the invitation we received this morning. Did you look at it, perchance?"

"Is that what's bothering you? Yes, I did see it. I didn't quite believe it, but I did see it."

"We don't have to go. I can send our regrets."

"Since we've been given the chance, I think we should go. Unless of course, you don't want to."

I took a moment to think. "We'll do it, but if for any reason you're uncomfortable, you have to tell me right away and we'll leave. You're always my first priority."

She nodded. "But you have to do the same."

I snorted. "I'm uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, but apparently, I'm still willing to try. See, I can be reasonable when I want to."

"I'm sure it's a hardship."

"Do I detect a spark of sarcasm? You better watch your tongue, little girl."

Whether it was the change of course in our conversation, the fire in my eyes or the fierceness of Isabella's blushing, Tanya and Alice shook their heads at us and plucked both of the boys from my arms. "We'll leave you two alone. Your company is obviously not the example we want for the children."

"Oh please, Alice, like it's any better for them to listen to you ladies yammer on all day. I'm sure whatever you three talk about would be enough to make even my ears burn." Alice stuck her tongue out and kept going, Tanya following close behind her.

When we were finally alone, I tugged Isabella forward until she was flush against me, and nestled my head in the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair and skin.

"You're sure?" I whispered, feeling her shiver.

She gripped my lapels and stroked them, the backs of her fingers tickling my skin under my clothes.

"I'll be safe with you, and I'm not made of glass. Nothing they can do or say will drive me away from you."

I loved when she made me feel trustworthy, when she acknowledged that I would always protect her above all others. Her words drove me to distraction and made me crazy with desire for her. I scooped her up, her legs wrapped around my waist and my hands supported her bottom. Pressing her against the doorframe, I covered her neck and cleavage with salacious kisses.

"Edward," my name came from her lips in the form of a sigh, "Edward," she repeated, slightly stronger, but I was too busy to answer her as my face was buried in her breasts, "Edward!"

"Huh?" I looked up, startled.

"We're in the nursery."

I glanced around, "Oh, right."

Steadying her in my arms, I carried her down the hallway and tossed her on our bed, kicking the door shut behind me.

"Better?"

She giggled. "Much."

Maybe we were avoiding our nervousness, maybe we were covering up our wariness; I don't know, but we barely left the room until the following afternoon when Alice insisted she needed to help Isabella get ready for dinner. She kindly suggested that I go find some other way to entertain myself.

After I had washed and dressed, I waited in my study, smoking a cigar and imbibing slowly and mindfully from a bottle of Bourbon. I only locked one of my desk drawers, the one which contained my Smith and Wesson pistol. I ran my finger across the lock and remembered what else I had recently stashed there.

On a whim, I unlocked the drawer and removed the velvet box. Holding it in my palm, I popped the lid and admired the necklace once more.

There was a quick rap on the study door and surprised, I snapped the box shut. The door opened and Isabella peeked in.

"Come in." I waved her forward, but she hesitated.

"I'm ready, and the carriage is waiting," she whispered, my sight of her still blocked by the partially open door.

"Come in," I repeated, "Let me see you."

She entered tentatively and walked to the center of the room, directly in front of my desk.

"Turn around."

She rolled her eyes and smirked before spinning in a circle. My eyes followed her full skirt covered in dark green taffeta as it swirled around her, and progressed up to her tightly cinched waist and ample bosom. The neckline was cut higher than she normally wore, no doubt as a show of modesty with my mother's opinion in mind.

"Do I pass inspection?" she asked cheekily.

"Hm, something seems to be missing."

"What?"

She nervously slid her hands down her bodice and fidgeted with her skirt. I got up, one hand clutching the box behind my back, and stood behind her.

"I had planned to give you this as a Christmas gift, but I think it would be better served being worn tonight."

I slipped the necklace from the box and placed it around her, clasping it at the nape of her neck. Isabella's hand went immediately to her throat and she gasped.

"Edward Masen, I always knew you were not quite right, but this proves you're out of your mind."

I moved around to face her and placed my hand on hers where it lay on the necklace.

"You don't like it?" I asked sheepishly, watching her skin break out in gooseflesh at the touch of my hand.

"Of course I do; it's absolutely beautiful, but it must have cost you a fortune."

I shrugged. "What does that matter? I have a fortune, many times over, and I can't think of a single way I'd rather spend it than on spoiling you."

"If you insist," she answered, but I could tell she was secretly pleased. "We really must be going if you want to arrive on time."

I followed her out and we spent the short carriage ride in near silence. Isabella's hands shook and my knees bounced, but we made it to the Cullen house without incident.

We were ushered in by the ancient housekeeper that Emmett had employed for as long as I had known him. She smiled at me, but then her eyes fell on Isabella and they registered confusion and dismay. I hurried us past her and went straight to the formal dining room, finding it all decked out with Christmas décor and fine china place settings. Esme came bustling into the room from the direction of the kitchen, her fine gown half covered by an apron.

"You came! I wasn't sure you would. Carlisle and Emmett should be in momentarily. Rosalie," she gestured upstairs, "won't be joining us as she's still in confinement."

I nodded, keeping a firm grip on Isabella's hand, which was shaking in my own. She had shrunk behind me, her short frame easily concealed by my tall stature. Esme caught sight of her though and threw out her arms, lightly gripping Isabella's shoulders.

"I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance. We've heard so much about you and I'm very glad that Edward conceded to bringing you tonight."

Isabella looked rapidly between my mother and I, seemingly unsure as to what to say or do. I was also shocked into stillness, not nearly expecting this kind of reception.

After several moments of silence, Isabella recovered herself and smiled, exchanging the usual pleasantries with my mother. Carlisle and Emmett arrived soon after, and we were seated for dinner. I found the conversation stifling, forced smiles and exaggerated politeness; everyone was on edge, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Isabella rarely spoke, only answering when posed a direct question. Most of the chatter surrounded the shipyards and the fencing school; safe topics.

When we had finished, I was invited to the library to partake in the normal male ritual of cigars and brandy. I was unsure about leaving Isabella, but she nodded, encouraging me to do so. My mother snapped her up quickly, insisting on taking her upstairs to meet Rosalie and visit with my new nephew. The possibilities of what could come out of Rosalie's mouth distressed me, but the anxiousness was dissolved somewhat by Isabella taking my hand and whispering in my ear, "Remember, I'm not made of glass."

I placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and handed her off to my mother before trailing Carlisle and Emmett into the library. Once the drinks were poured, the cigars lit, and we were each settled into a wing back chair by the fireplace, Carlisle cleared his throat and glanced between Emmett and I.

"I wanted to thank you, Edward."

"Oh? What for?"

"I appreciate that you never told your father about us. I'm a bit old to be picking up and moving my entire life to a new city, and I never want Esme to go through that kind of hardship again."

I shrugged. Despite my anger at the time, it had never occurred to me to expose them that way.

"I've heard your father's been gone for quite sometime. Do you hear from him often?"

I felt slightly uncomfortable answering questions about my father. "Yes, he sends telegraphs regularly."

"Will he be coming home anytime soon?"

"I don't know; doesn't seem likely, but then he lives according to his own schedule."

"Not much has changed then," Carlisle remarked with the barest bit of rancor. "What does he tell you he's doing?"

"Listen Dr. Cullen, I'm trying to be polite here, but I'm not sure that's any of your business."

"There's good reason for the question; humor me if you will, please."

I stared at him for a full minute or more. Emmett looked terribly uncomfortable, like he wished he could be anywhere else.

"Fine," I gave in begrudgingly. "He's been traveling throughout the South, finding new ways to expand our little shipping empire. He wants to have the equivalent of what we once had in Chicago."

"How much do you know about the current political environment?"

The seemingly abrupt change in subject threw me for a moment. "Not much at all. Why?"

Carlisle studied me for a moment. "The shipping industry is about to become extremely important, even more so now than it has ever been. I'm going to have to ask for your trust on this, Edward; much like when Esme revealed who we were, I'm going to need to ask you to keep to yourself what I'm about to tell you."

"I really don't think I'm up for any more surprises," I answered in exasperation.

Carlisle cracked a smile. "I know. It feels like I'm nothing but a harbinger of unwelcome news, but I think you should know this. I want you to have a chance to decide for yourself."

"Very well; go on."

"I have contacts in the North. Both Emmett and I pass information on a number of matters, including the political climate in New Orleans back to them."

"Why?"

"Because it's looking more and more like the current State's rights issues are going to come to a head with the next presidential election. New Orleans is guaranteed to be one of the first places ripped apart by its allegiances. The South cannot hope to be self-sustaining without New Orleans under its control, and the North will want to control it so that the bulk of international trading stays in its hands. Simply said, if no goods can come in and out, the South can't profit and will ultimately be forced to stay in the Union."

"I understand," I acknowledged. Politics were not something that interested me, but I was completely capable of appreciating the ramifications.

"And now we get to where you come in. Your father is indeed travelling the South to expand the business, but he's also looking to profit from an increasingly likely scenario. From what I've been told, he's been in Charleston, Atlanta, Richmond and every other key city in the South this past year. He's garnering support, making promises, professing allegiances, everything he can do to persuade the men in power to use your shipyards as the major center of commerce if the Southern states secede."

I snorted and looked down at the fire. "That doesn't surprise me any, Dr. Cullen. What is it that you want me to do? He stills holds the reins, I just make sure everything runs smoothly."

"That's it; that's all we're interested in. We want you to stop making things run smoothly. We don't care how you do it, but we'd like you to appear to become inept, but not enough that your father feels the need to hurry home."

"You want me to slowly ruin the business I've been putting my own blood and sweat into for the past year?" Was he insane? There had to be another way.

"You don't have to decide right this minute. Promise me you'll think on it though."

"How can I even trust you to be honest with me? How do I know this isn't some elaborate game to get back at my father?"

Emmett opened his mouth to speak but Carlisle gestured for him to stay silent. "I can arrange a meeting with one of my associates. He'll be able to produce some intercepted letters and such that should prove the situation to you."

"Still, why all this fuss? So the states secede….why should I care? Whoever holds the power will need a good shipyard. I make money either way."

"The problem is, your father is not the epitome of discretion. Everybody already knows which side he prefers, so if the military arrives, they'll commandeer the shipyard with the excuse that you're enemy combatants."

"What you're saying is, if I work with you on this, the powers-that-be in government have assured you that in the event of a Union victory, the shipyards will stay in my family's hands."

"And you'll receive all the government shipping contracts you can handle. You'll be a very wealthy man."

"Dr. Cullen, I'm already a very wealthy man, that's not much of an incentive for me."

He nodded. "But your father ultimately holds the purse-strings, does he not?"

"That is so," I agreed. "Reading between the lines, I'm assuming that my father will be forced out of the operation. Is that what you're implying?"

"It's too late for him, Edward. Your father has made his bed, and by his actions, he's denied you the chance to choose for yourself. That's what I am offering; a choice."

"I'll need some time to think on it, and I'll want to meet with one of your contacts."

"Of course. I would say take all the time you need, but truthfully, I believe the country is set on an unalterable course and events will force us into action sooner rather than later. I can arrange for a meeting later this week."

"Send me word and I'll make time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll collect Isabella and head home. I have a lot to consider."

Emmett and Carlisle both rose from their seats and accompanied me out into the hall. I tramped up the stairs ahead of them and hurried down to the bedroom, my concern for Isabella's well-being back at the forefront of my mind.

Peeping into the room, I could see that my concern was misplaced. Isabella, Esme and Rosalie were all gathered on the bed, hovering over the infant and cooing. Smiles adorned each of their faces and they all seemed to be greatly at ease with each other.

"Isabella," I called quietly.

She turned her grin on me and slid off the bed. "Time to go?" she asked.

I held out my hand to her and beckoned her forward. When she reached my side, I wrapped my arm around her waist and gathered her close to me, asking her with my eyes if all was well. She nodded almost imperceptibly and glanced back over her shoulder at my mother and Rosalie.

"Please promise you'll come back sometime soon. I would love to have the chance to speak with you again. And bring Isabella; she's such a lovely girl."

I didn't know how to respond to my mother, so I didn't. I backed out of the room with a curt, "Good evening, ladies," hustling Isabella along at my side.

The return trip was just as silent as our earlier ride. I stared out the small window and pretended to be fascinated with the view of the passing streets but I could feel Isabella's skeptical glare settling on my face. She was waiting for me to tell her what was going on, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I didn't have any words. I didn't want to even attempt to explain Carlisle's theories or the very likelihood of my father's near-treasonous activities. Sinking deeply into the cushions of the carriage, I propped my long legs up on the opposite seat, closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to clear my thoughts.

As much as I always tried to avoid outside concerns, they were barging their way into my life and forcing me to deal with them. War was on the horizon and my father had regrettably put us right in the thick of things. My practiced skills of avoidance would only last me so much longer before I would absolutely need to make a decision. And that decision would change the course of both of our lives.

The meeting with Carlisle's associate occurred later that week. He was able to show me several letters in my father's own hand that had been intercepted by government agents loyal to the Union. By Saturday evening, after mulling over every possible outcome I could think of, I chose to stand with the Union. My father may have constantly sought the favor of the Southern gentility since we had arrived, but that had never been my path. I was forever a man of the North, a Chicagoan born and bred. I would not be used as a pawn in another of his schemes.

It wasn't hard to run the business down, and it made me wonder how less attentive men managed to make any money at all.

Revenue slowed over the coming months, though not significantly. I spent less and less time at the shipyards, leaving my duties to overseers and underlings. Afraid that Isabella would question my motivations, I didn't stay home either. Instead, I spent my days in dark halls playing poker and winning, or in my vacant Garden District home pondering the track my life had taken. My father still checked in occasionally, but he was far too busy with his deal making to pay much attention to my activities. It was all too easy for me to pull the wool over his eyes and make like everything was still going perfectly.

I tread very carefully at home. Isabella was a smart woman, and I could tell she knew something wasn't right with me. She would sniff at my clothes and shoot me looks, but she said not a word. When she asked about my days, I was evasive, trying not to lie, but unwilling to share.

Spring came and with it arrived a letter from Jacob inviting all of us to Paris for his winter wedding. Isabella and Alice were very excited that a date had finally been set and went right to work on making travel plans.

Alice had delivered a little girl during the doldrums of early January and the child never left her hip. She toted the dark-haired, dark-eyed baby with her everywhere. The night she was born, Jasper was the picture of calm, never wavering in his faith that Alice would be fine and both her and the child would come through the ordeal unscathed.

Snow fell heavily while Alice labored, a rare occurrence for Louisiana. It blanketed the streets for a short time, but was long gone before midday. Angélique claimed that it was a blessing from _les invisibles, _a sign that the child was gifted in the way that her mother was. I had my doubts, but who was I to voice them?

They called her Makenna, and she was every bit as spoiled as Tanya's boys. One thing was for certain, with Alice as her mother, she would never want for clothes, attention, or affection. Jasper slipped into the role of a father with an otherworldly ease. Nothing seemed to ruffle him or leave him scurrying for Alice's help. He showed me up well, as had become the usual.

Nearly every morning, I passed Charles Swan as he hobbled into his office. While he had appeared to be quite fit despite his advanced years when I had first met him, it was clear that time was catching up with him. He leaned heavily on his cane and didn't put as much effort into the steely glares he greeted me with. Even after so much time has past, he still wouldn't speak to me, or Isabella. I tried to ignore it, but I did feel terrible for Isabella. I never thought the old man would hold on to the grudge for so long.

I booked passage for our ocean voyage, leaving from my shipyard on one of my ships on the fifteenth of November. Jasper and I were escorting the girls of course, but we were also bringing Tanya, Seth and the twins, as well as Renée. I hadn't decided what to tell my father, or Carlisle for that matter. In my daydreams, I imagined arriving in France and never returning to America, leaving all this mess behind and convincing Isabella to stay with me on an old vineyard somewhere in the French countryside.

Carlisle, Emmett and I met often, but I still avoided my mother. I didn't know what to say to her, and if she was looking for forgiveness, I didn't know if I had any to offer her.

My father only appeared in New Orleans once over the summer. He strode into the shipyards one day and by chance I was actually there at my desk. He stayed for one agonizingly long week before leaving again after receiving an urgent telegram.

I delayed informing any of them about my imminent departure, instead I went on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. I was lying or evading so many different people and issues, it was a good thing that I had had so much practice in deception or I would have easily painted myself into a corner.

Despite the suspicion I could see in Isabella's eyes, things between us were still all that I could ever want. She desired me as much as I desired her, and even given all my failings, we were happy to share each other's company.

The weeks running up to our departure date were extremely busy. The girls packed up everything they could possibly need for a three month stay in Europe, as well as making sure that both of their houses were ready to be closed up. I was preparing as well. I sold the plantation to the first interested buyer I found, a gentled-souled Pennsylvanian called Garrett. The place held nothing but unpleasant memories for me and I had no wish to continue holding ownership over it.

News of the election of Abraham Lincoln broke the week before we were to leave. Within days, my father had arrived home and was busy strategizing with his friends and associates. Several times I attempted to corner him to tell him that I was preparing to sail for France, but he kept waving me off and telling me we'd talk later.

I seriously considered only sending him a telegram right before I boarded ship.

With three nights to go, I sat down and explained the trip to Carlisle and Emmett.

"You simply can not go, Edward. This is no time for jaunting off to Europe. Your country needs you. We're on the brink of war!" Carlisle shouted. I was taken aback. It was so seldom that he became emotional.

"You forget yourself. Don't presume to tell me what I can and can not do," I quickly replied.

"And you forget that you have responsibilities here. If you leave, your father is back in charge of the shipyard and the whole plan falls through. I'm sorry, Edward, you're going to have to postpone the trip or send Isabella off with her family."

I shook my head. "I can't do that. What if she chooses not to return? She could find that she loves it there. She'd be free of all constraints and could do as she pleases, even marry a man of her choice."

"That's a chance you have to take. If she loves you, she'll come home."

"But if we're at war she might not be able to get back," I pointed out.

"Then she'll wait for you."

"I don't know that I'm worth waiting for, not with endless options at her finger tips."

I sighed and tugged on my hair. "I don't like it, Carlisle. I don't want to be without her."

"Think on it. You'll see that staying is the right and only choice."

Emmett looked on sadly. I knew that he could see how very much this separation would tear me apart. "Talk to her; tell her. She'll understand that you're needed here and she'll come back to you," he offered as advice.

I nodded toward him and with a heavy heart, I took my leave of them for the evening. Slowly walking home, I pondered how and when to tell her that she would be departing without me.

For the next two days, I kept right on thinking about it, but managed to not utter a word of my thoughts.

The night before the ship was to sail, we rounded up every trunk, bag and crate that was to make the sea voyage, and had them all delivered to the hull of the ship, and still, I said nothing.

Isabella excitedly donned her hat and cloak, and I grabbed the bags that would stay in our quarters on the ship, and still, I said nothing.

We rode down to the docks and boarded the ship, which was all set to leave at first light, and still, I said nothing.

After bidding her sister and the rest of our family and servants good night, Isabella accompanied me back to our cabin where we quickly removed our clothes and climbed into bed, and still, I said nothing.

She climbed on top of me and traced her fingers down my chest, lightly scraping my skin with her nails. I watched her move atop me with rapt attention, careful not to miss the slightest movement of her body on mine in case it was the last time. Her smile was big and full as she slinked down my body to lick daintily at the ridges of my hipbones before sliding her tongue across my lower belly and down to circle the tip of my cock. I exhaled loudly, trying to control my impulse to thrust and instead allow her the liberty to do to me as she pleased.

Isabella took the head in her mouth, sucking deliciously hard, all the while undulating her tongue against the sensitive underside. In the many months we had been together, she had become quite practiced in the art of oral pleasure, especially knowing how it drove me nearly out of my mind with need for her. I stared into her eyes, my breaths became shallow, and I watched her mouth descend, taking me all the way in, down to the base and back up, with agonizing and deliberate slowness.

"Holy Christ, Isabella! Sometimes I believe you were sent to me from Old Nick himself," I shouted, throwing my head back and shaking with want.

She raised herself up and sat back on her heels, running her fingers down her firm breasts and across her belly. My eyes followed them, gaping openly when her left hand slipped down between her legs. "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven-isn't that what they say?"

I shook my head and gathered her up in my arms. "Not for you, my dear girl. You belong in the Garden of Earthly Delights-the forbidden fruit, not the serpent."

She laughed. "Are you tempted?"

"Always and forever," I answered, flipping us so that I lay on top. "I'm tempted to never leave your side."

"Let's hope you never have to," Isabella replied, stroking my chin gently with her index finger.

Supporting myself on my forearms, I pushed inside her and buried my face in her thick, fragrant hair, which lay loosely around her head. "If only that were possible," I whispered, though it went unheard.

I made love to her until both of our bodies were sated and she had fallen exhausted into a deep slumber. The moon lit the room through a small window on the starboard side and it shone full on Isabella's flushed and supple skin. It may have been several more hours that I simply gazed on her, unwilling to leave but knowing the time was drawing near.

Finally, I rolled out of bed and redressed. As soundlessly as possible, I sat down at the small desk and composed a short letter explaining that I had to stay and that she should go on without me, but that I would be awaiting her return if she would still have me. I knew it was cowardly of me to do so, but I couldn't find the strength to tell her to her face. With any luck, by the time she awoke the ship would have already left the harbor and hit the open seas of the Gulf of Mexico.

Grabbing my bags, I slipped noiselessly out of the door, stopping once more to peer at her through the crack as I closed it. The night was dark and chilly, the light of dawn still several hours away. I walked down the gangplank and left the shipyard, making my way through the streets of the French Quarter and on toward my home in the American District. Tossing my things inside the door, I first decided to throw myself in bed, but I couldn't stand the thought that the sheets would smell of Isabella, so I took myself off to the library, plucking up two bottles of whiskey before splaying myself across the sofa.

I drank faster than I had ever in my life before, and there began several days of near constant inebriation. I didn't eat. I didn't leave the library. I didn't function past rolling over and finding another bottle. I may have cried most pathetically at one point.

"Jesus, Edward, get the hell up. You're no use to anyone like this. Least of all, yourself." My brother's booming voice filled the formerly silent room.

"Leave me alone," I grunted, my voice dry and scratchy from disuse.

"This won't do, Edward, it won't do at all. She's gone and you've got to sober up and finish what we've started."

I tried crawling away from him, but he wouldn't leave me be. "We have work to do; you hear me? Word is, there's already a rebel government forming. Get off your sorry-for-yourself-ass!"

Everything else I managed to ignore until he said the one thing which could catch my attention. "Your father is on his way."

**Chapter 22 will be the last regular chapter and it will be BPOV. I'll have it out just as soon as I can :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: SM owns all things Twilight. I own a ridic hangover and a foggy brain, but I got to play with fandom peeps in RL last night, so it's all good.**

**A/N: Thanks to Binky & Emma for their continued work, especially for wading thru this 13000+ word chapter.**

********Graphic Violence Warning*********

BPOV

The sheets still held a hint of warmth when my hand swept across them, but there was no sign of the bed's former occupant. I rose and stretched, my limbs stiff from our earlier exertions. Slipping on my dressing gown and wrapping a shawl tightly around my shoulders, I tiptoed to the door. Cracking it open, I checked to see if Edward had gone on the deck for a smoke or a breath of fresh air. I looked up and down but I found the deck to be empty, the wood planks glowing slightly in the moonlight. A sudden gust of wind caused me to grip my shawl even closer and push the door shut. Behind me, a small stack of papers, disturbed by the breeze, tumbled to the floor. As I bent over to pick them up, I noticed Edward's beautiful scrawl and lit the lantern on the desk so as to read his words.

_My Dear Girl,_

_My selfish heart hopes this letter finds you well on your way toward open seas; New Orleans but a distant city behind you. No doubt you are wondering where I have gone, and I have no real excuse. I could have stayed. I would have been happy to stay. I can't even explain why it is that I have made this choice other than I feel it had to be done. I am needed here in the city for reasons I cannot yet reveal. Up until the last moment, I hoped that this separation would not come to pass and that this letter would be one which I would never have to write. The only excuse that I can give is that for once, I am doing as I should and not as I want._

_Come home to me._

_This is by no means a reflection on my love for you. That is truly without end or estimation. You have done as no other in my life could, and for that I will be eternally in your debt. _

_Come home to me._

_Last night, you quoted Milton, and now I feel as if I must as well, if only because I'm seemingly incapable of expressing my feelings in my own words. _

_So lovely fair,_

_That what seemed fair in all the world, seemed now_

_Mean, or in her summed up, in her contained_

_And in her looks; which from that time infused_

_Sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,_

_And into all things from her air inspired_

_The spirit of love and amorous delight._

_She disappeared, and left me dark; I waked_

_To find her, or for ever to deplore_

_Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:_

_When out of hope, behold her, not far off,_

_Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned_

_With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow_

_To make her amiable: On she came,_

_Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen,_

_And guided by his voice; nor uninformed_

_Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites:_

_Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye,_

_In every gesture dignity and love._

_I know they are only pretty words but…_

_Come home to me._

_Along with this letter you will find Tanya and Seth's papers. Once you reach the shores of France, burn them, tear them up or otherwise destroy them. They deserve to have their chance at a life free from constraints. Also, I have left a trunk under the bed in which you will find enough gold coins to provide for them both handsomely. _

_Lest you believe I would leave you without means, there is also a trunk meant only for you. If, perchance, you should choose to stay in France, or for any reason are unable or unwilling to return, keep it; it's yours. _

_I beg one thing of you; write to me. Let me know of your safe arrival as soon as possible. Even if all you write back is to say that I have made my final mistake and you never want to see me again, to see your words on paper and hold them in my hand will soothe the pain of this separation._

_Come home to me._

_Edward_

The edges of the pages crumpled where I gripped them tightly. For months I had waited for something like this to happen. I had felt him pulling away; I had felt him distancing himself from all of us. I had known for some time that he hadn't been telling me the truth, at least not the whole truth. I think he might even have known that I knew, but he kept up the charade anyway.

Because he wouldn't reveal himself or his intentions to me, I'd had Seth follow him over the course of many days. I knew that he rarely went down to the docks anymore, and instead, he holed up in his house in the American District or he found the darkest, most sordid sporting halls and entertained himself with drink and cards. I forced Seth to spare me no details, but I was most relieved to find that he at least appeared to refrain from consorting with the women who found their employment there.

Worried that he actually was and Seth was only trying to protect me from the truth, I had convinced Seth to take me with him. Covering myself in a dark cloak, Seth and I meandered through garbage strewn alleys and narrow back streets; a side of the city I'd never before seen. Women beckoned invitingly from open doorways and men staggered and fell drunkenly even at mid-day.

Seth had grown tall and muscled, hitting a huge growth spurt since he had been exposed to good eating and light labor in my home. He had also changed from an impish faced boy to a fine, broad shouldered young man; one who attracted the gazes of women, white, black and colored, wherever we went. He blushed under their wanton stares and tucked me closer to his side.

"This is no place for you, M'selle," he mumbled.

I brushed off his concerns and proceeded on, attempting to remain undaunted by my surroundings. Finally, we came upon a slightly less seedy and dirty establishment that stood out from the others by the gay laughter floating out of the open windows.

"He can usually be found here playing cards. Sometimes his brother and Michie Cullen join in, but usually when they come, they all sit together and talk quietly in the far corner."

"What about when he's at the mansion? Do they go there together?"

He shook his head. "He's always alone there."

Seth leaned against the corner wall of the house on the opposite side of the alley and pulled me close beside him. "Stay here. You'll be able to see into the front room."

I quickly caught sight of him, shuffling cards and laughing amongst a group of men I didn't recognize. We stayed in the shadowy recesses for nearly an hour, watching Edward go through the motions of carefree bon vivant. Several times, women would skirt the table, running their hands over the shoulders of the players and bringing them fresh drinks. Every time one of them made contact with Edward, I would hold my breath, but he seemed to pay them no mind. Once, one of the girls sat right down upon his knee. He glanced up at her and smiled, but shook his head and eventually she shimmied away, disappointed.

I turned to Seth to ask, "Have you ever sought comfort here?" I knew he wouldn't have been welcomed at this particular place, but there were certainly others where he could have spent his leisure time.

"You ask a lot of me, M'selle." His head bowed and he looked away, toward the scantily clad females with heavily painted faces that wandered the street. "But, no I haven't. I doubt very much that there's any real comfort to be found here."

I smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "In case I've never told you so, I'm glad that Edward brought you and Tanya to us. 'Twas a blessing if there ever was one."

Carlisle and Emmett never made an appearance, and after some time, Edward gathered up his coat from the back of his chair and made his way to the door, waving and laughing his goodbyes to the other inhabitants of the pleasure house. Seth yanked me behind him and we slunk further into the wall, out of sight.

When Edward had made it to the cross street, we eased away from the wall and followed behind him, making sure to stay far enough away so as not to be noticed. It wouldn't have mattered though, Edward walked with his head down and his hands in his coat pockets.

We followed him all the way uptown, a lengthy walk from deep in the Vieux Carre to his mansion. He ambled along like a man with nothing better to do and nowhere in particular to be. Occasionally, he stopped to light a smoke or to nod a greeting at a passerby, but otherwise, the trip was uneventful. The ability to watch him unseen for a long period of time was both a pleasure and a pain. He was always beautiful to me, but his features belied a certain sadness that they hadn't contained before. His shoulders hunched and he appeared deep in thought, the cockiness of his usual stride all but disappearing.

When he reached the mansion, he went in through the side door and Seth and I took up our station behind a clump of banana trees. Edward settled into a chair by the window, affording us a full view of his actions. He poured himself a glass from the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table by his side and polished it off in one swallow before staring vacantly out of the window, his long, lean legs propped on the chair across from him.

"He may stay this way for hours," Seth whispered.

"But why? Why is he doing this? What has changed?" I questioned, more to myself than to Seth.

He shook his head and shrugged. "We should go; as you can see, things aren't as bad off as what you've made them."

"Better in some ways and worse in others," I answered, dipping below a branch and stepping back out toward the street.

A sound at the cabin door jerked me out of my remembrances and back to the present. Alice burst through, quickly shutting the door behind her. Her long hair was free and wild, hanging loosely at her elbows, a silk robe thrown hastily over her nightdress.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

I nodded silently; afraid that if I spoke a cascade of tears would erupt.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

Shaking my head back and forth, I opened my mouth but no sound emerged. I didn't know my answer, or even what the answer _should _be.

"Dawn will soon be arriving and this ship will sail. In this case, no decision _is _a decision."

"Tell me what I should do," I begged her.

"I can't tell you that. This is a choice you must make."

"But you've always helped me before," I pleaded.

"There are far too many different factors at play. I can't see all the outcomes. Besides, I think it may be time for me to stop pushing you where you may not want to go. I'm afraid I may have been too forceful in the past, but it was only because I wanted what I thought was best for you, but now I'm not so sure."

"I've never known you to be unconfident about the future. Why now? Why when I need you the most?"

Alice bit her lip and looked to the floor.

"It's something terrible, isn't it? Something you don't want to tell me?"

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You can't keep this from me!" I stood and crossed the room. Alice looked up just as I latched my hands around her upper arms and shook her. "If you know what I should do, you must tell me."

Alice raised her brow and glared at me, very reminiscent of how mothers look at naughty children. I snatched my hands away and stepped back. "I'm so sorry, Alice. I know you are not trying to be cruel, but I need you."

"That's the thing, Bella; I don't think you do need me anymore. I think you know just what you should be doing and where you should be. But I will tell you this, if you stay aboard ship, you'll never see Edward again, and if you go, one of you may not survive. That's the choice. Now, which way do you think I should be pushing you?"

Once again, I was without an answer. I could clearly see how difficult Alice's visions of the future were for her and why she couldn't bear to tell me what she thought I should do.

"If I stay aboard, I'll never see Edward again?" I couldn't imagine anything less than death keeping me from getting back to him.

Alice nodded and sat heavily on the bed. "Edward has something he must do, but it will lead him to a very dark place, from which he will never emerge without you by his side. However, if you stay in New Orleans, there's a very real chance that you'll be caught up in it all as well. Choose carefully but quickly; there isn't much time left."

"Then there's no question what my choice will be. I belong with Edward, no matter the outcome, no matter my fate." I rushed to grab my shoes and cloak, and then looked around the room, wondering how I could possibly get my trunks off the boat inconspicuously.

"Leave them. You can't go back to your house anyway. Edward will know you never left. Look at me, Bella. Edward can't know you're still in the city."

"How am I supposed to help him if he doesn't even know I'm here?"

"Your presence will distract him. You have to stay hidden until the right moment. You'll know when."

"But...I don't have anywhere else to go." I shook my head, confused by Alice's advice.

"Go to Tante Angélique's house in the Quarter; she'll welcome you."

I shook my head. "I don't think…"

Alice smiled deviously. "You could always knock on Papa's door and see if he'll let you in."

"I doubt that he would; he still hasn't forgiven me." I sighed. I missed him, but I was terrified he would shut the door in my face if I ventured back to the cottage.

"That I don't know, but come, we have to get you out of here."

I dressed with speed and Alice waited by the door to say goodbye.

"I suppose I needn't tell you to be careful, as you'll do just as you please anyway," she stated while pulling me into a hug.

"Try not to worry too much for me. I'll take care of myself the best I can, and in three months, you'll be home and we'll be together again."

Alice squeezed me tighter and buried her face in my neck, her response muffled by my hair.

"What?"

She drew back from me and wrapped my hands in hers. "I didn't want to influence your decision, so I didn't tell you that I won't be coming home. Jasper, Makenna and I will be staying in France…indefinitely."

"What do you mean, indefinitely?"

"Jasper's father has found a wife for him since he is clearly now quite well and able to be a husband. Jasper has agreed to marry her upon his return from France; it was the only way his father would agree to let him go. Because of that, we won't be returning any time soon."

She nervously nibbled her finger and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. "I don't want to leave you or my home, but I know you of all people will understand that I won't share or be parted from Jasper, and he feels the same."

"Maybe in time you could return? Please tell me you won't be gone forever. I can't bear to lose you like I've lost Jacob," I pleaded.

"I don't know, Bella, but this was the choice_ I_ had to make." She dropped my hands and strode out onto the deck. The sky was just beginning to lighten, and I could hear muffled activity from the docks. "We have to get you off this ship. Stick to the shadows and stay out of sight." She spun and grabbed me up into another hug, leaving whispered kisses on my cheek. "I love you; follow your heart and stay out of trouble."

"I love you too. Be happy. Tell Jasper goodbye and give Makenna kisses for me. I _will _see you all again."

Alice smiled softly as she drifted away from me. We kept eye contact until she reached the door to her room, slipping inside and away from me, potentially forever.

Trying not to waste time on tears and grief, I scampered down the deck and left the ship and one facet of my life behind. I did my best to remain inconspicuous. A girl alone, unprotected and carrying a large sum of money on her person would be a most desirable find for any roving criminal.

It seemed to take an eternity to make it through the narrow streets. The sun shone brightly above the spires of St Louis Cathedral by the time I made it past. I held the cloak tighter around my body and dipped my head for fear that I would be recognized.

Finally catching sight of Tante Angélique's home, I hurried my steps and raced for the door, which surprisingly sprung open for me.

"Bella, we've been expecting you."

Angélique, Zafrina, and a girl closer to my age stood in the doorway. She looked slightly familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I knew her from.

"You have?"

"Of course," Tante Angélique replied with a smirk.

"Of course," I repeated, realizing with whom I was dealing.

"We've already prepared a room for you. Emilie will show you up. I think you two have met before."

I gasped. Emilie, the missing girl that Alice had spoken of many months before was staying here. "We did, long ago. It almost feels like that was a whole other lifetime," I responded with nervous laughter, my gaze falling on the small woman and trying to find anything about her that resembled the carefree girl from school that she had once been.

Emilie cocked her head to the side and looked me up and down. "Yes, many lifetimes it would seem. I've heard of you since. People like to talk about you and Alice." I winced at Alice's name being mentioned.

"I've heard that, but you must know of all the talk surrounding you as well? I know you haven't been here the entire time."

Tante Angélique and Zafrina looked between the two of us and quietly excused themselves after suggesting we come back down for breakfast after I settled in. Emilie led the way up the staircase and ushered me into a small room at the rear of the house.

"I know it's not what you're used to," she said with slight disdain, "but beggars can't be choosy, can they?"

I didn't like her tone at all and I was confused by the condescension with which she was treating me. "I suppose not," I answered icily.

Emilie flopped down on the bed, the morning light highlighting a garish scar on one side of her face. "So your man's gone and left you? I'm not surprised, none of them are to be trusted."

"That's not exactly the case, but I won't bother explaining it to you. I can see that what I have to say will make little difference."

She laughed. "How naïve you are! Your man is just the same. I know; I've seen him at his worst. He won't be back, and he surely isn't worth waiting for."

"You've seen him before?"

"I met him once and have seen him many times. Let's say…he and I used to frequent the same places."

"And how have you found yourself here?" I wondered. I was finding her presence irritating in the extreme and it was getting harder to bite back scathing replies.

Her laughter continued and she launched herself off the bed and twirled around.

"Angélique and Zafrina came across me one night. What they were doing roaming the streets at such an hour, I'll leave you to guess, but they found me and brought me here, and here I've been ever since. They seem to think that I need looking after, but I'm just happy to have been found."

She launched into song, "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see," before collapsing on the bed in a fit of giggles. I came to the conclusion that she must be mad. Why else would she behave in such ways?

"I think you should go," I suggested in a slow, steady voice. "I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."

She grinned up at me. "If you insist."

Emilie leapt up and made her way to the door, stopping and turning back to me at the threshold. "You're not going to sit in here and wallow, are you? That would be so bourgeois."

"I'll do as I please. Get out!"

I could hear her laughing the whole way down the hall before I banged the door shut. Slumping down onto the bed, I rested my tired limbs and closed my eyes, wishing over and over that if I opened them, I would find myself back in bed comfortably wrapped up in Edward. At that moment, the realization struck me; I might never spend another night in blissful contentment with him. And then the tears came, flowing down my face and soaking my pillow. I muffled my cries under the blankets until I ceased to care whether anyone heard me or not, and let them echo through the room.

I think I was most upset by the fact that I had been so sure that if I just got him on the boat, everything would have been fine. I had felt and recognized Edward pulling away, but I thought that this trip together would solve everything. I believed he needed to get away from the city and have time to relax without the pressures of work or family, but as I came to find out, I was missing other factors entirely. Alice hinted at larger issues at play, but I didn't have any idea what they could be, and I didn't have a clue how I could find out if I was to follow her advice and keep my presence hidden.

The next few days, I was left largely alone. Tante Angélique and Zafrina were rarely home and I avoided running into Emilie at all cost. I only snuck out of my room in order to eat, and that I did only when I didn't hear anyone else up and about. I was desperate to see Edward, but I was trying my hardest to follow Alice's advice. Even if she wasn't sure how things would turn out, she had at least laid out a path for me to follow.

I wish I could say that I didn't yearn for Edward's presence every moment or think of him constantly, but I did. My need for him was never-ending and without abatement. My heart, my mind, my skin, my every bone and sinew begged me to leave the house and hunt the streets until I found him. What I would do when I found him, I didn't know. I had never been prone to violence, but a part of me wanted to throttle him until he felt my pain, while the rest of me wanted to drag him off and make love to him until he couldn't move, let alone walk away from me again.

The holidays without Edward were a lonesome affair. I had grown used to celebrating with him and our improvised family. Somewhere along the way, I realized I had not only lost Edward's companionship, but also that of Seth and Tanya, two people I had come to depend on in so many ways. Also, without Alice, I felt bereft, adrift at sea with no navigator to show me the way.

It was February before I finally received a letter from Alice, following on the tails of the announcement that Louisiana had seceded from the Union. They had all arrived in France safely and had attended Jacob's wedding, which she described as a joyous affair. I cried again that night; sad that I had missed such an important event in his life.

Things were changing in the city. By mid-March, Confederate troops were converging on the town, seeking to protect the interests of the new rebel government. An informal embargo was placed on cotton in an effort to persuade the British government to side with the South and the newspapers reported that shipping was at a near standstill. Of course, this only made me think of Edward and how he was being affected.

The streets were a frightening place filled with unfamiliar faces; so many men in uniform seeing New Orleans and all it had to offer for the first time, good and bad. They caroused in the streets, strutting jauntily in their fresh uniforms. Officers on horseback, weapons strapped to their sides, sought to keep the peace in a city dazed by the knowledge that there would soon be a war at its doorstep.

Normally, I stayed in and away from sight, but one afternoon, I slipped out and made my way to the French Market in search of some pralines, which I had been craving all morning. I shouldn't have indulged my desire, both because it led me out into public, and because I had been growing steadily pudgier since Edward's departure.

I was half afraid that when we came together again, he wouldn't even recognize me.

After purchasing my tin of pralines without incident, I decided to take a short walk as the spring day was beautiful and the heat not yet oppressive. I thought about relaxing under a tree in Jackson Square, but once I had arrived on the periphery, I noticed a gathering crowd. It looked to be a rally of some kind with soldiers and their officers advertising for new recruits.

I watched from the outskirts, my veiled hat concealing my identity from onlookers. Men of all ages congregated in the square, hooting boisterously and chatting with each other about the impending conflict. Some were old enough to have fought with Jackson during the Battle of New Orleans and they told stories to the younger boys, encouraging them to sign up in support of the Confederacy.

Just a few weeks before, many of the colored men in our community had rallied as well, offering their support as soldiers to protect the city. At first, it seemed that they would be welcomed as they had been in Jackson's day, when they kept the city from being taken by the British, but the Confederate government reversed itself and denied them entry.

An officer on horseback rode into the middle of the crowd, waving his sabre high. I looked up just as the sun caught the polished steel, nearly blinded me with the reflected light. Blinking, I looked again a saw a face I thought I had thoroughly left in the past.

James sat tall on his mount, smiling and shouting back and forth with some of the other officers. Internally, I shrieked in shock and fear, but outwardly I tried to remain calm, reassuring myself that he wouldn't be able to tell it was my face in the crowd.

I was nudged from behind and broke my frightened gaze away from James' face.

"Are you out here looking for trouble?" Emilie asked demandingly.

"I don't know; are you following me?"

"Someone has to look out for you. You clearly can't. Or won't."

"I'm just fine on my own. I certainly don't need your help."

"Don't you?" she mumbled, her eyes lifting and latching onto James. "I think we all need some looking after sometimes."

"Does he scare you?" I asked tentatively.

She chuckled. "Not anymore. I have nothing left to lose. He's already ruined me inside and out. My family won't have anything to do with me; no man wants me. Look at my face," she insisted, "who would want to wake up to this every morning?"

"It's not so terrible that it would turn away a good man. You were beautiful once; I remember it well. All the girls at school wanted to be you."

"Yes well, no one envies me now. They don't even look my way on the street. Everyone talks about you and Alice; your money, your good fortune, the way you walk with your heads held high and at least in Alice's case, your lover's child upon your hip. I'll never have that. No child will grow within me; no man will treat me as his treasure."

"You don't know that," I insisted.

"Don't I?" she questioned quietly and seemingly to herself. Turning back to me she said, "Speaking of babies, when are you going to face facts?"

"What do you mean? That I can't have any either? I prefer not to think about my barrenness."

After nearly two years together, I had all but lost faith that I would ever carry Edward's child. It went completely unmentioned for the most part; I was too ashamed to talk about it, and Edward evaded the topic all together. When Alice conceived after many months of trying, I was so very happy for her, but it was tempered by my own sadness. She kept assuring me that my time would come, but after so much time had passed by, I lost faith completely and moved it to the back of my mind where I socked away other lost dreams.

"Perhaps you've been too concerned with other things to notice, but you've grown fat these last three months."

"For a moment there, I thought we two might have a chance at getting along. I can see I was mistaken."

I turned to leave but Emilie grabbed my arm. "You silly girl, can't you see? You're carrying his child now, and very nearly half-way through if I'm not mistaken."

I shook my head slowly. "No, that can't be right."

She shrugged. "Believe me or not. Go ask Angélique, she's been waiting for you to come to her."

"She has?"

Emilie nodded. "You're completely oblivious, aren't you?"

"I…I haven't even considered it."

"Come along. We should get you home." Emilie wrapped her arm around me and pulled me forward.

"No." Stopping in my tracks, I shook my head. "No, I want to see Edward. I have to see him. I need him. And you are just the person to know where to find him."

"Please, can we go home? We'll find Edward for you, but I don't think now is the time."

"Why not? You do know where he is; you've seen him, haven't you?"

She took a deep breath and guided me forward. "I've seen him around, but Bella, he's not in a good place right now. I don't think he would want you to see him like this. You need to do as Alice suggested and keep your distance, for at least a while longer."

"That makes me even more certain; now is the time. He needs me. Alice said I would know and I can't think of a more convincing feeling."

"Come home; come home and rest. We'll talk about this. We'll think it through and come up with a plan. You can't simply run up to him in the street or drag him out of a sporting house."

I acquiesced, but not entirely willingly. We walked home to Tante Angélique's, arriving to find the house empty of its occupants. Under Emilie's suggestion, I went upstairs to rest in my room, only to wake up later in darkness. I had slept the day away.

Creeping downstairs, I found no one else awake, and the hall clock striking midnight. Fixing myself up a plate, I supped quietly on leftovers and returned to my room, wide awake and indecisive. I still wanted to seek out Edward, but I was frightened to do so on my own. The streets weren't the safest place on any given night, but they were now filled with soldiers and others coming from all around the South.

I patted my growing belly, recognizing it at last for what it was. I would have to be especially careful, as I was suddenly responsible for more than just myself. I wondered what Edward would think; would he be happy, or would he see it as another distraction?

Either way, I wanted to find out. I wanted to know once and for all if he was with me forever or if he would run.

Having made up my mind, I pulled on a plain dress, with no corset to constrict me and no hoop to slow my movements. I found my most serviceable shoes and a thick, black cloak to conceal me as much as possible. My hair was down and tied back, hidden under the hood of the cloak. As noiselessly as possible, I descended the stairs and slipped out the door.

The streets were disarmingly quiet and empty, but I knew better than to relax my guard. The closer I came to the now familiar row of sporting houses, the more men I saw milling around, but I made it to the nook that Seth and I had used as a hiding space without attracting notice.

Once I was settled in against the wall, I looked up and followed the bright lights, locating Edward at his usual spot: the head of the poker table. Jolly piano music erupted out of the open windows and Edward's foot tapped the beat. He smiled and chatted with the man beside him, whom I soon recognized as Emmett.

For a moment I felt more than just a little bit annoyed. There he was, seemingly out having a good time all while I huddled in a dark corner watching. But the longer I watched and the closer I looked, I noticed changes in him that didn't bode well for his general health and welfare. His cheeks were flushed red as they often were when he drank, but his eyes were dull, missing their usual spark. Occasionally, his laugh would tumble out of the windows and reach my ears, but it didn't sound like him. It had a raw breathiness to it that I hadn't heard before, almost as if he was nursing a cold or had smoked too many cigars.

The hand that held his drink trembled, as did the one that held his cards. He slid his fingers along his stiff, starched collar and wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Emmett leaned over and asked him something, looking concerned, but Edward shook him off, grumpily glaring back at him.

They played for more than an hour without anything eventful happening, and I began to grow impatient waiting for him to leave. Without any warning that I could see from my vantage point, the man seated across from Edward bolted up out of his seat and lunged across the table, gripping Edward by the throat. Poker chips and cards rained down off the table and I held my breath, waiting for Edward's reaction.

No one moved for an instant. Emmett seemed shocked into inaction but Edward looked coolly decisive despite the large hand circling his throat. Quicker than my eye could follow, Edward had removed the knife from his boot and held it against the man's neck. Slowly, the man loosened each finger individually until his hand hovered next to Edward, no longer touching him. Edward's face was the picture of restrained calm, as if this kind of thing was a common occurrence. Of course, for all I knew, it could have been.

Emmett exchanged heated words with the man and pointed toward the door, his other hand on Edward's shoulder. Taking the hint and seeing he was outnumbered, the man walked backward to the door and fumbled out into the night, breaking into a run when he was out of sight of the windows.

A shiver ran down my back as I contemplated how often Edward must risk death without telling me, and I felt like he must have been very bored by my complaints about every day life.

Emmett and Edward rose from the table and gathered their things shortly after the other man left. They shook hands with the other players and scooped up their winnings, jamming gold coins into their pockets and paper bills into their billfolds.

Edward looked slightly unsteady on his feet and Emmett leaned in to wrap his arm around his shoulders. Once they had made it out onto the street, I waited until they were quite a bit ahead of me and then left my hiding spot to follow. Between the two of them they shared a bottle of something, with Edward taking the majority of the swigs. I wasn't surprised.

At the point where Emmett would have normally turned off to reach his home, they stopped to argue. Though I was some fifty feet away, it looked like Emmett was attempting to induce Edward into coming back to his house, but Edward was having none of that. He grabbed the bottle back from Emmett and pushed his outstretched arm away. Emmett looked on sadly and as Edward walked away, he simply shook his head and turned toward his home.

I wanted to yell for Emmett and tell him not to leave Edward in this condition, but I didn't. Selfishly, I wanted him all to myself and with the American District in sight; I was hoping that it would be soon as I could barely contain my anticipation. Somewhere along the way, Edward drained the bottle and pitched it behind him. It thudded and rolled to a stop under a nearby Cypress tree.

Edward's pace was slow, and mine was slower still. Walking in the dark could lead to falling, and I wanted to do nothing that might risk the little life within me. Finally, I could see Edward rounding the corner and steadying himself on the wrought iron fence that surrounded his property. A branch snapped nearby and he paused, listening. The moonlight rippled down through the trees and lit up his face. He turned toward me and for a second, and I thought he could see me through the dense darkness I was shrouded in. He stared hard for a long moment, but turned away with a shake of his head.

I was eager for him to make it into the house so that our reunion could occur without the chance of his neighbors spying us, but as usual, Edward didn't make things easy. When he finally made it up the stairs, he sat at the top, leaning against the massive front door and staring at the sky. He banged his head sharply against the door, a clear sign that he was upset, and reached into his pocket, grabbing a small bottle and drinking from it.

Impatient to be with him, I resolved to approach him despite the danger of being seen, but by the time I made it to the porch, Edward was passed out cold right where he sat.

Beyond frustrated, I shook him hard and begged for him to wake up, but was met with no response. I released a sob and knelt down beside him, continuing to yank at his arm and plead with him.

Inadvertently, my shoulder touched the door and it jerked open, laying Edward out across the threshold. Gathering the strength I had left, I moved behind him and hooked my arms under his shoulders and pulled. He had barely moved an inch and already I was near exhaustion.

"You stupid, stupid girl," Emilie's voice cracked the silence of the night. "Are you trying to get yourself hurt? Because I can think of at least a hundred different ways something horrible could have happened to you."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when she had first appeared, but after she spoke, I was merely irritated. "You could at least help instead of wasting my time insulting me."

Emilie looked down at us, me crouching and Edward's head lulling in my lap. "Pathetic," she mumbled, tapping Edward's leg with her toe. "Pathetic and Stupid; you two belong together."

All of my pent up frustration and anger was about to find an outlet. I rose up off the floor, carefully lowering Edward's head off my lap, and stood. After finding my balance, I threw my hand back and slapped her across the face. She simply looked at me in disbelief, and then her face broke into a grin and she cackled.

"Quite the bite you have. Didn't realize you had it in you. Now, you grab his feet, and I'll pull him in."

I was astonished by her turnabout but quickly complied. After we had resituated ourselves so that she was at his head and I was lifting his booted feet, we managed to get him pulled down the hall and into one of the first floor guest suites. It was another difficult task to get him up onto the bed, but we managed it as well as could be expected together.

I pulled off Edward's boots and Emilie loosened his coat and vest. Out of his vest pocket fell the little bottle I'd seen him drink from on the porch.

"No wonder he's out cold; he's been at this stuff again." Emilie shook her head in disgust.

"What is it?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Emilie held up the bottle so I was able to see the writing. "Tincture of Opium?" I read aloud.

She nodded. "You want to feel no pain? You drink this. You want to escape for a little? You drink this. You want to die young and miserable? You drink this," she explained.

"I don't understand. I've never seen that before," I replied, shaking my head in confusion.

Emilie shrugged. "Maybe he hid it from you; maybe he didn't do it then. I don't know."

I found myself collapsing into the chair behind me, wondering if I knew Edward at all. Had he been so unhappy all along or was it only because we had been separated?

Dawn came soon after we had gotten Edward into the bed. Emilie and I made a bed on the floor and curled up next to each other. Edward made not a sound for hours, but we were awakened around midday by his pained groans. I jostled Emilie awake, and we crawled to his bedside, stiff from sleeping on blankets on the floor.

I rose wearily and looked him over. "Edward?" I called, anxious to hear his voice. I grasped his hand, and found his skin to be hot to the touch. Emilie shook her head and placed her hand upon his brow.

"He's burning up with fever. Hurry, strip him down and I'll get some cool water."

Emilie bustled from the room while I pulled off Edward's pants and under-drawers. He didn't even appear to notice and had yet to open his eyes or speak. His shirt was much more difficult to remove and I ended up cutting it off after fishing his knife out of his boot. In case I happened to need it later, I sheathed the knife and slipped it into the pocket of my skirt. Swiftly, I threw a sheet over top of Edward just as Emilie sailed back in the room.

"This place is a cesspool. Hasn't he had a maid or a slave here?" Emilie asked, coming back in the room carrying a basin and pitcher with towels tossed over her shoulder.

"I don't think so. I always took care of it before. We liked being alone here, and when we wanted company, we stayed at my home."

"He had you staying here? I'm surprised. That's unusual."

"Not openly, but yes, I was lady of this house."

"It's a fine house, and you're a fine lady, even if it's only for pretend."

"Why is it that one side of your mouth drips sweetness and the other speaks poison?"

"That's just how it is when you're crazy, or maybe this is how I've always been. Suppose I'll leave that up to you to decide," she smirked. "If you're done with the questions, let's see if we can get poor, pathetic Edward here in a slightly better state, hmm?"

I assisted Emilie in covering Edward with the towels soaked in water and watched as he shivered with fever. His eyes flickered once and I thought he might wake up, but instead, he began to heave.

"Quickly, roll him to the side so he doesn't choke!" Emilie shouted.

I pulled him to the left just in time and Emilie shoved the now empty basin under his head. We went on and on this way, a daylong cycle of holding him and cleaning up.

"Yellow fever, do you think?" I asked when there was a lull.

Emilie nodded in agreement. "No doubt. Always ends up getting the foreigners this way. I'm surprised he made it nearly two years here without getting it before."

"Edward never gets sick, not even a cold."

"Well, this will certainly be a rare treat for him then."

Our conversation was stopped by another round of Edward dry heaving. His eyes sprang open and he looked through me more so than at me.

"He's awake!" I shouted gleefully. Emilie smiled and poured a glass of water.

"Here, get him to drink this slowly if you can," she suggested.

Holding it up to his mouth with one hand and cupping his face with the other, I tipped the glass and poured some water over his chapped lips. He sputtered and gasped before trying to swallow. Nearly every drop I managed to get into him was back up within seconds and after he collapsed against the mattress, his bloodshot eyes closed again, his lips pursed and his breaths escaping by whispers.

"Isabella…" his voice was quiet and strained. "Come home to me."

"I am home; I never really left you," I answered him tearfully, caressing his face and sinking my fingers into his hair. He sighed and within minutes he was sleeping soundly.

Emilie and I took advantage of the calm, getting something to eat, though Edward's cabinets were nearly bare. I could tell by the state of his house and the lack of food that he hadn't been taking care of anything.

Under cover of darkness, Emilie left to retrieve more food and supplies. She returned right before dawn, bearing bread and cheese, wine and broth.

"Is he still feverish?" she asked, stoking a fire in the kitchen fireplace.

"Yes, he's still very warm, but he's been still and calm."

"Could be good news, could be he's about to get sicker. Let's see if we can get some broth into him."

"I'm loathe to wake him up when he's so peaceful."

Emilie crossed her arms and quirked her brow. "You can leave him in peace if you want, but it may be for all eternity if we don't get some broth into him. Your choice."

"Let me get a bowl."

Waking Edward was harder than I thought it would be. It took several minutes and varied techniques to rouse him. In the end, he was still only faintly coherent. His eyes locked on mine and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"We need you to help us, Edward. We need you to drink and get well. Do you understand?"

His skin burned against mine, but he nodded slightly in agreement. Emilie brought over a tray and held the bowl to his lips while I supported his head and neck by crawling into bed beside him. Seeing him so weak and ill broke my heart and I wanted to fall apart and cry, but I wouldn't let myself. Becoming overly emotional would only have been detrimental to Edward's wellbeing.

The whole act of drinking broth seemed to tire him completely, and when the bowl was empty, I let him fall back against the pillows. While he was in a state of semi-consciousness, Emilie and I changed the sheets and blankets out for clean ones, rolling Edward gently from one side of the bed to the other.

"You shouldn't be near me; I'm sick and you'll get ill," Edward uttered quietly, grabbing my arm to get my attention.

"Don't concern yourself about that," I told him soothingly. "Most every child born here has had a bout of fever and you never get it again. I'll be fine."

After being reassured, Edward fell asleep again. I had hoped that he was close to getting well, but the middle of the night brought a frightening round of hallucinations, a spiked fever and bodily shakes that made the bed creak and groan with their forcefulness.

The sight of blood seeping from his nose and mouth sent me reeling to the floor, dizzy with worry and dead tired from days of anxiety and relentlessly pushing myself.

"Go," Emilie yelled. "Get out of this room and find a bed. You may not be able to get the fever, but that doesn't mean you won't find yourself sick or worse."

"I shouldn't leave him," I insisted.

Emilie looked down on his sweat covered body laying prostrate on the bed. "I don't believe he even knows we're here right now. You need to rest. I'll look after him."

Nodding, I regretfully left the room. Stopping in the kitchen, I shoved a piece of bread in my mouth and swallowed some water before crawling into the bed of another empty guest room.

I woke with a startle, sitting bolt upright in bed. The house was completely silent and in a moment of panic, I raced from the room, down the hall and back to the room that Edward occupied. The sun shone through the windows, but I had no idea what time it was or for how long I had slept. Throwing open the door, I was surprised to see Edward sitting calmly in bed against a mountain of pillows. Emilie lay on the floor sleeping soundly in a nest of blankets.

"You're better?" I asked, amazed. He was pale and thin, but awake and lucid.

Edward smiled slightly and patted the bed next to him. Immediately, I crept up the mattress and settled in next to him.

"Much better, thank you. I missed you," he said, stroking my hair.

"I didn't want to leave you," I protested.

"I know. I didn't either." His eyes relayed what his words couldn't.

"How long has Emilie been asleep?" I asked after a moment.

"Only since my fever broke and she changed the sheets again. Maybe two hours at most," he estimated.

"And how long was I asleep?"

"According to Emilie, more than eighteen hours, but she said you needed it desperately. You know I wouldn't have wanted you to risk your own health to care for me. My dear girl, as usual, you take too much on yourself."

"Don't you know? I would risk anything."

Edward shook his head. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be in France with your family?"

"I _am_ with my family. Right here. The two of us shouldn't be without each other. This time apart…I didn't like it. I didn't like that you left without warning. I didn't like that you didn't talk to me, that you chose not to share what was going on with me." I poked his chin with my index finger. "You're not forgiven, you're just too sick for me to hurt you at the moment."

He caught my hand and twined it with his own, pulling my finger away and kissing it. "I'm sorry. I know it's not enough. I'm not enough. You should probably smother me while I'm too weak to fight you off," he answered in solemn tones, but his lips quivered suspiciously.

I stifled a giggle. "I hate it when you make me laugh. It makes it terribly difficult to stay angry with you, but I know a way to exact my revenge; I warn you, it may be shocking."

"It's not nice to shock a man in my condition."

"Well, it's not nice to leave a woman in _my_ condition."

Edward cocked his brow, looking at me quizzically. Our hands still clasped, I lowered them both to my belly, laying his directly on top of my burgeoning bump so there would be no mistake as to what I was showing him.

He blinked rapidly, looking from my face to my belly and back again several times. His mouth opened and closed and then his head shook back and forth. At first, I could feel my smile nearly cracking my face, but it faded quickly when Edward didn't seem to share my joy.

"This isn't right," I heard him say under his breath, "It shouldn't be this way."

Shoving his hand away, I sat up and pushed myself off the bed. Edward reached out, gripping my elbow and preventing me from fleeing the room. "Don't go. You misunderstand my meaning." I struggled in his grasp. "I believed you might never return from France, especially after I never received a letter back from you and I was planning to find you as soon as I could get out of this hellish place. I was going to marry you there if you'd still have me; American law be damned and to hell with _polite society_! I thought…I thought that since it hadn't happened in all this time that it was like a punishment, a punishment on me for the things I've done, and in turn, my punishment was visited so unfairly on you. I'm surprised is all. I had myself convinced that until I made that step, things wouldn't be different, they wouldn't be _right_. Maybe I had too much time to think while you were gone."

I studied the floor, unmoving and unsure. He continued, "Please, please don't be upset with me. I _am_ happy, so very happy."

Looking over my shoulder at him, he was smiling, and radiantly at that. His fingers flicked my hair off my shoulder and he slid his hand around the back of my neck. Slowly, I eased back onto the bed and curled up next to him, but we were both silent. He wrapped strands of my hair around his fingers, curling them again and again as he had often done when we lay together in bed. Eventually, his hand dropped to the bed and he was asleep again.

Over the following days, Emilie and I busied ourselves caring for Edward and forcing him to stay in bed. The moment he began feeling better, he also began insisting that he had things he had to do, and people he needed to see, but I wasn't putting up with any of it. Shamelessly, I reminded him of our growing child and it's need for a father, preferably a live one in good condition. He really was nowhere near well enough to be up and about. His appetite was barely there and he had lost a lot of weight, both

from the illness and from his lack of care in the months before. He was just started to get his color back by the third day since his fever had abated, and a smile was constantly on his face whenever we were in sight of each other. Emilie routinely rolled her eyes and made gagging sounds when she thought the affection Edward and I shared was beyond her endurance, but she also enjoyed her chance to boss Edward at every turn.

"She's mean. Efficient, but mean," Edward remarked after one afternoon after Emilie had practically force fed him, describing in great detail how sickly and gaunt he looked and how no woman in her right mind would want to have anything to do with him. "But I think I like her."

"You would," I laughed. "Stay here while I get you some fresh clothes."

"Where would I go? No one around here lets me up," Edward mumbled.

Climbing the stairs to Edward's and my room, Emilie passed me on the stairs, a basket of fresh linens in her hand. "I've done the laundering; couldn't take the mess anymore. Men are disgusting pigs when left to their own devices."

I stopped her, holding her elbow and preventing her from continuing down the stairs. "Thank you. I mean it, thank you. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

She shrugged. "Whether that's a good thing or not remains to be seen. Now, if you're done here, I'm going to check the rest of the rooms downstairs."

I nodded, knowing that was about as sentimental a response as I was likely to get from Emilie.

After I found Edward a clean robe and under-drawers, I turned around to head back downstairs. From the hallway, I heard the banging of the front door and the sound of heavy footsteps. I wondered if Emmett had finally come to check on Edward. I had asked him the other day why his father, Carlisle or Emmett hadn't been around, but he said it wasn't unusual and that in the 3 months prior, he had often managed to disappear for days at a time. Edward said his father had pretty much given up on him and only trusted him with the most insignificant of tasks since Edward had managed to irritate all of his father's friends and drive business down. I still didn't quite understand what he was doing other than I knew it had something to do with Carlisle and the war, but Edward thought it best that I didn't know all the details in case I was ever questioned.

Standing at the top of the stairs, I noticed Emilie with her back flat against the wall in an alcove outside the study. She saw me looking and motioned to me to be quiet and stay where I was. Immediately, I was concerned. Emilie rarely seemed to fear anyone.

Creeping down the stairs, I held my breath and tried not to make any sounds. Emilie waved at me frantically, her face the picture of angry disapproval, but I continued on. If Emilie was this terrified, I didn't want to leave Edward alone and unprotected in his state. He was still so weak; I didn't believe he'd be able to fend off an attacker.

I made it down the hallway, pausing outside Edward's door to listen. The voice I heard chilled me to the bone.

"Good to see you again, Edward. I've been waiting for this for some time as you can well imagine."

"I see you've duped them into giving you a commission. What fool is allowing you to lead men into battle?"

"Now is not really the time for insults," James replied. "Can you even get out of that bed? You look like shit. Can't remember why I ever fancied you."

I could tell by the click-clack of his heeled boots that he was pacing the hardwood floors.

Edward laughed quietly. "You've fancied far too many people, James. How is that working for you now? You must have to do a lot of hiding. I can't imagine that your various…proclivities are supported by your superior officers."

"I've never had any trouble finding my fun, and it's not often I'm turned down. You managed that feat, and your little whore as well. Where is she by the way? Once I'm done here, I might go looking for her. I bet she's a wild one and I doubt she'd say no again. Women gravitate toward strength and money. Without you, she has neither protection nor a stipend. I could offer her both…if I had a mind to, that is."

The room grew quiet and I took the chance to peek around the doorframe. James' back was to the doorway, but Edward saw me. His eyes flitted infinitesimally between James and I, trying not to give away my presence. Fear seldom found a place in Edward's expression, but I found it there then.

"Isabella is in France; far away from you, far away from this war, and she's not coming back."

"That's a pity. I suppose she took my dear, darling Tanya with her as well?" James paused, waiting for Edward's confirmation. Once he had received it in the form of a slight nod, he continued, "And my children with her?" Edward nodded again. "You know, I haven't even gotten to see them. That's not fair, don't you think?"

"I think your children are much better off having an ocean between them and you. They're fine boys. They don't need your influence hanging over them."

James shook his head and laughed. "And yours is so much better? Come now, Edward, always trying to fool yourself into thinking you're better than me. I'm tired of this attitude of yours." He made a tutting sound and approached the bed. Reaching for his side arm, he pulled it out, pointing it straight at Edward's chest.

"But aside from all that, I know you'd like to find out why I'm really here?"

Just as he had when he was confronted at the poker table, Edward showed no sign of shock or fear. He sat upright in bed, completely still and unmoving, his eyes following James' every breath and tremor.

"Go ahead; tell me why then."

"Someone got wind of your little project. You know, the one where you single handedly ruin your father's business and hand the port over to the Yanks? Your father was none-too-pleased when he heard about it. I must say, I didn't think he had it in him, but he actually approached me, knowing I already had a quarrel with you. But look on the bright side, this way you won't be accused of treason against the Confederacy publicly."

"My father arranged this?" Edward asked incredulously, the first crack in his façade.

James snickered, fully enjoying Edward's loss of composure. "He did, but it is all my pleasure to see it through."

I heard him cock the pistol and saw Edward shut his eyes in preparation. Without thinking about it, I slid my arm across the decorative table next to me, sending a large French vase and a dozen irises spilling to the floor, creating quite the clatter. I turned and raced down the hall, hearing James' boots clapping along behind me and rapidly catching up. I was never the fastest of runners, but now, with a growing belly and my long skirt dragging at my legs, I didn't stand a chance of out running him. At least without the hoop and corset, I was ever so slightly more agile and evaded him much longer than I normally would have.

When I was within sight of the front door, I felt James catch my arm, hooking the crook of my elbow and swinging me into the wall with a painful smack. Stunned, I squeezed my eyes shut and took a gasping breath. Before I could anticipate it, James' hand was around my throat, pressing me into the wall. His elbow buried itself into my diaphragm, and his fingers dug into my jaw line.

"France, eh? Foolish Edward trying to hide his precious little bitch from me, but you couldn't stay away, could you?"

James came closer, pushing his body against mine, whispering his terrifying words in my ear.

"I was hoping I'd find you here. In fact, I never told Edward's father when I would finish the job, just in case I wanted a few extra days to spend alone with you." His disgusting tongue lapped at my earlobe and his free hand gripped my leg, pulling up my robe until he found bare flesh.

Terror and lack of oxygen clouded my thoughts. I simply prayed for it to be over. James' drifting hand found my belly and he squeezed it harshly, making me cry out hoarsely.

"What's this? Did he finally get his bastard in you?" He released his nasally snicker once more. "No matter," he continued, shaking his head and smiling, "We'll get this one out and put mine in. I bet I make pretty babies. You would know, wouldn't you?"

His words turned into a disturbing din ringing in my ears, but above it I heard a strange new sound, a constant rhythmic scraping like metal running across the marble hallway tile.

And then the voice I wanted to hear above all others, "Isabella?" Edward called, his voice husky and straining to be heard. "Isabella! Answer me!" Turning the corner, he caught sight of us. James pivoted his body away from mine and toward Edward, but kept his hand locked around my throat.

Edward held his fencing blade in one hand, his other splayed against the wall for support. His face was drawn and pale and he sweated profusely with the effort it took to drag his sickly body from the bedroom.

"Let her go, James. She doesn't deserve any of this. She's not like us. Let her go and I won't even put up a fight. You can have my head on a silver platter if you want."

"But that would be just too easy. Where would the fun be in that?"

Edward stared at me, sheer terror in his eyes knowing we didn't stand a chance against a lunatic with a pistol.

"I think maybe I'll shoot you in the leg first so that you have no choice but to lay there and watch me get my way…finally."

Again, James removed his pistol from the holster. His leg brushed against mine and I felt my dress shift, a weight in the pocket reminding me what I had borrowed from Edward days before. While James was distracted, I yanked the knife loose from its sheath and plunged it between his ribs with every bit of energy I had left in me.

A great roar erupted from James' mouth and he turned his full attention back to me, his fingers nearly crushing my throat in pain and anger. Edward fumbled forward, desperately attempting to reach me before I was suffocated. My pulse was loudly thudding in my temple and my vision went foggy. The discharge of a gun sounded in my ear, but I was confused as it came from the wrong direction. The hand at my throat loosened, and James dropped unceremoniously to his knees on the floor. Through my gasps for breath, I saw Edward drop as well, his back sliding down the wall until he was seated in a heap, but he appeared to be uninjured.

Looking down, I saw James staring straight-ahead, surprise and confusion coloring his features. The hand that had formerly held his pistol was empty and hanging limply at his side while his other clutched his chest. A deep red stain slowly seeped through his uniform and spread from his chest down to his thighs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Emilie walking nonchalantly down the hall toward us. She stepped around James and stood in front, looking down on him. His head raised and he looked her in the eyes as she put Edward's Smith and Wesson against his forehead. The sound of her cocking the trigger echoed down the silent hall and she smiled as she pulled it, sending a bullet careening through James' skull. I shrieked as blood and brains sprayed the floor and what was left of James collapsed in a pile of gore at my feet.

Emilie turned and walked to Edward, placing his gun at his feet. His shocked eyes followed her every move.

"Sorry about the mess," she stated casually before continuing down the hallway and out of the front door without looking back.

I don't remember much of what happened next. I shrank to the floor and crawled to Edward, sobbing hysterically. I fell into his lap and he gathered me up, running his hands all over me and begging me to tell him if I was injured. I don't know how long we lay huddled together like that, but in time, I heard the front door swing open and another set of boots thud down the hall.

"What the hell? What's happened here? Bella? You're supposed to be in France!" Emmett's confused voice was a welcome sound and I pulled away from Edward long enough to assure Emmett that we were in one piece. Mostly.

"A woman came by the house and told me to come. She said I was needed and then she left as quickly as she came. What…who…I don't understand what's happened here. The woman with the scar, did she do this? Why is there a dead Confederate officer on your floor, Edward? And what the hell happened to you? You look even worse than when we last parted ways."

"Jesus, Emmett, slow down. I've been sick, very sick. Could you please help Isabella to her feet?"

"Of course." Emmett swung down and picked me up. Catching sight of my stained gown, his nose crinkled and he said, "We need to get you cleaned up."

"Don't worry about me, we need to get Edward back into bed. He's just getting over the fever and I don't want him taking ill again."

Emmett placed me on my feet and reached out for Edward, slinging his arm across Edward's back and hauling him up. He half carried him down the hall, carefully avoiding coming close to what remained of James. I stuck close to the wall as well, refusing to look down. I had seen far too much already.

After Edward was once again settled into bed, Emmett shuffled his feet by the door.

"I'll umm, take care of the body," he told us, "I don't think it would do any of us any good for someone to see him in this condition."

When I had fussed over Edward and assured myself that he was as comfortable as he could be after what had just happened, I took the servant's stairs at the rear of the house to avoid finding out how Emmett was taking care of things, and headed in to the master bedroom in search of fresh clothes. I bundled up the soiled gown and set it aside to be burned.

Glancing down at my unclothed body, I saw bruises forming on my arms and legs, with one particularly awful looking one on the right side of my belly from when James pinched me. My neck was also tender to the touch so I walked over to the bureau and looked at my reflection. Imprints of James' fingers covered my neck, with a long bruise running from the base of my throat to my sternum, where James had pressed his forearm into me.

I found the most conservative, high-necked gown I could, though my options were limited. I had left clothes in the house occasionally, but since I knew we wouldn't normally be wearing much while we were there, I didn't keep a full wardrobe. I was concerned about Edward seeing my marred skin and working himself up into a panic.

After returning to the room and finding Edward asleep, I crawled into the bed next to him, working my way up under his arms with my back to his chest. I didn't close my eyes, and I didn't sleep. I was afraid that if I did, I would only be haunted by nightmares and images of James. Being wrapped up in Edward's arms and surrounded by his scent relaxed and calmed me, and I took all the comfort I could from it.

I heard him sigh, his breath ruffling my hair, and his arm tightening around my middle. The light squeeze he gave me resulted in me inadvertently crying out in pain. Edward jolted awake and sat up behind me.

"You're hurt and you're not telling me?"

"It's nothing, only some bruises. I'll be fine, really."

Reaching down, he hiked up my gown and surveyed my body. "Fuck!' he whispered, his eyes flitting over me and his hands hovering, seemingly afraid to touch me for fear he'd hurt me again. "We have to get you out of here. We both have to get out of here before anyone else comes for us."

"I'm not leaving without you. I couldn't do it before and I won't do it now," I insisted.

"When Emmett returns, I'll talk to him. He'll have to go to Carlisle for me and tell him I'm done. I can't do anymore."

"James told me that your father didn't know when he would come for you, just that he would, so we should have a little time at least before someone comes checking on you." I thought for a moment. "If your father knows about your involvement, don't you think it's possible that someone knows about Emmett and Carlisle as well?"

"Most likely. Someone in on the planning has to have talked," Edward agreed. "That's the trouble with this type of conflict, loyalties are crossed, families are on opposite sides; no one knows who to trust or believe." He shook his head. "It's a mess, one of the many reasons I didn't want you involved. And now look at you," He waved his hand across my torso, "He hurt you. I never wanted anyone to hurt you like this."

"I know you didn't, but I'll be fine. In a few days they'll fade away. I'm glad that you found us when you did, before he could hurt the baby. He wanted to hurt the baby, Edward!" I was momentarily halted by a sob. The thought of losing a child we'd finally been able to create was more awful than I could imagine.

"Shhh," Edward crooned to me, cupping my face and sprinkling kisses on my cheeks. "Are you sure everything is alright? Really sure?"

"As much as I can be."

"Once I get Carlisle here, I'll have him check you over. He's been a doctor longer than I've been alive, and I have the utmost confidence in his abilities."

I nodded and we settled down again, trying to patiently wait for Emmett to return. A good hour passed before we heard his heavy steps. He rapped on the door and then pushed it open and walked into the room.

"It's done."

"Where did you put him?"

"In the backyard, six feet closer to hell."

"We need Carlisle. You know that don't you? James knew about us, said my father sent him. We would all do well to leave the city immediately."

Emmett put his hands on his hips and sighed loudly, staring at the ceiling and shaking his head.

"I'll leave now and be back as soon as I can. Don't leave the house and don't let anyone in here."

Edward rolled his eyes. "As if I could stop them right now. For god sakes, just hurry."

It felt like forever waiting for them. At nearly five in the morning, a concerned Carlisle and very tired looking Emmett entered the bedroom, Esme trailed after them, hovering by the door and nervously wringing her hands.

"Edward? Tell me everything that's happened," Carlisle demanded.

"First, Isabella needs you. I won't talk about anything else until you make sure that she…and the baby are alright."

Everyone started talking at once. Emmett and Carlisle exchanged incredulous stares and Esme went from nervous to joyous in seconds. Finally, Carlisle silenced everyone by telling Emmett and Esme to leave the room so that he could examine me.

After they had complied, Edward moved over to give Carlisle room to maneuver. I blushed a vibrant red when Carlisle motioned for Edward to help pull up my gown and the heat rushed to my cheeks when I felt his hands on me, gently examining my bruises and as he explained, checking for broken bones or any other injuries. Lastly, he felt around my belly, and asked about the last time I had a monthly and whether I had felt the quickening yet.

"I haven't felt it move yet. Should I have?" I asked, worry coloring my speech.

"You seem to be about twenty weeks. If you haven't felt it yet, it will most certainly be soon." Carlisle pulled my gown back down so that I was covered again. "It looks like you've been through quite a lot today, but you're not bleeding out, and you're not experiencing any pain other than from the bruised areas, correct?"

I nodded in agreement.

"Then all appears to be fine, but that could always change. You need to keep calm and relaxed." Carlisle walked over to the door and allowed Esme and Emmett back in. They looked at him curiously but he waived off their unspoken questions. "Now, Edward, I want to know everything."

Edward told the whole story, starting with a week before when Emmett and he had last been together, the night I followed him home. While Edward spoke, his audience reacted in various ways, from shock, to outrage, to disbelief. By the end, Esme had tears pouring down her face and Emmett's face was in his hands.

"So as you can see, we need to get out of here as soon as possible. Whether the rest of you leave or not, I need you to guarantee Isabella and I safe passage out of the South," Edward finished.

Carlisle looked conflicted, alternating between shaking his head and rocking on his feet. "The Yanks are closing in. I just received word last night that the Mississippi will be blocked by nightfall. No ships will be let in or out; a complete Northern blockade. There's no way out of New Orleans by water."

Esme shot forward from her place by the door. Grabbing Carlisle's arm she looked up at him beseechingly. "Please Carlisle, find a way, find someone who can help get them out of here. I can't bear the thought of failing my son again. He's done everything, he's given everything he has, and nearly died helping you. We can't fail him. I can't fail him."

Carlisle embraced her, wrapping one arm around her middle while his hand cupped her jaw. For a moment they were silent, staring into one another's eyes, almost as if communicating silently. Edward and I barely breathed, awaiting Carlisle's response. His answer could mean life or death for both of us.

"I'll make it happen. One way or another, I'll get them out, Esme. I'll get them out."

**Edward will be quite happy to wrap the story up in the epilogue :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: However many chapters later...yep, still not mine. Neither is Edward's bad habit of quoting sappy Victorian love poetry. This time Freneau is his victim.**

**Sappy A/N that _IS_ my fault will be at the bottom.**

**EPOV**

**Two years later…**

The slight breeze filtered in through the open window, gently jostling the lacy curtains. Wisps of Isabella's hair fluttered around her face, tickling her in her sleep and causing her nose to scrunch up. Sighing, she rolled onto her belly and buried her face deep in the pillow. Her naked limbs resituated themselves into a comfortable position, straight and loosely separated.

The floor creaked as I approached, but Isabella didn't stir. Standing at the end of the bed, I rid myself of my clothes, dirty from an afternoon spent in the vineyard, and crawled up on the bed, my knees on either side of her legs. My heavily calloused hands slid up her calves, the roughness scratching against her soft, smooth flesh.

"Edward?" she whispered sleepily, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Does anyone else crawl into your bed, intent on seducing you?"

She snorted. "I'm sleeping. How dare you interrupt my nap?"

I ran my fingers up the back of her thighs slowly and lightly, with just enough pressure to make her squirm deliciously under my touch. Pushing the sheet aside, which had only narrowly covered her behind, I nibbled, nipped and licked my way from the tops of her thighs to the base of her neck, flipping her hair off to the side when it got in my way.

Easing myself down atop her, I wrapped my arms around hers, joining our hands where they lay under her pillow and nuzzled my face into her neck.

"I can go away if you want," I suggested politely with my words, all the while not so politely jabbing her with the hard tip of my intentions.

Isabella began giggling but it soon turned into a groan as she flexed her back and rubbed her rump against me. Rising up on her forearms, she looked at me over her shoulder, raising her brows and grinning impishly.

"I suppose sleep can wait. What you're offering…" She rubbed against me again. "_Is _rather tempting."

"I hope it still is, after all this time."

"I'm glad you still want me, since I'm positively ancient now."

I muffled a laugh into her shoulder. "Isabella, you're barely twenty. If anyone here is ancient, it's me, knocking on the door of twenty-six."

"You're right. You are old. I don't know how you manage to keep up your level of vigor at your advanced age."

"It sounds as though you need to be reminded of just how _vigorous _I'm capable of being."

"Oh, please do. I'll try to keep up."

My left hand released its grip on hers and slid down her body, over the curves of her breasts, past the planes of her belly, and lost itself in the contours of her hips and between her thighs. One of the many highlights of being with one woman for an extended period of time which I had never experienced before, was knowing her body completely; how it wanted pleasure, where to touch, when to speed up and when to take things tantalizingly and deliberately slow.

While the beginning of our relationship was marked by unquenchable passion, this new level we had reached was more than I could ever have imagined in all my wild bachelor days. It may not have been as frequent as I would have liked –family and work on the vineyard taking up much of our time– but the stolen moments we were able to take advantage of were more thoroughly appreciated, more desired and looked forward to.

"I need you."

Panting, I shook my head against her back. "Not yet."

She growled and peered over her shoulder at me. "_Now_! I want it and you always claim you can deny me nothing." Tucking her knees under her, she rose up, forcing me to my knees as well.

"Very true, my dear girl, very true. How spoiled and demanding you've become. I shouldn't indulge you so much; such a brat," I teased, grabbing her from behind and sliding my cock between her thighs, repeatedly caressing her tender flesh with the tip, but continuing to deny her wish.

Isabella pouted, dropping the role of vixen and assuming a more demure pose, her bottom lip held tightly between her teeth. "I'll be a better girl for you, I promise."

"I'm not so sure. I've let you get all out of practice, giving in to your every whim. I think you're going to have to prove it," I added, smirking and wondering what she'd do.

She turned around to face me, both of us still on our knees. Her hands rested on my thighs and we both appraised each other, deciding who would be the first to act. Her hands crept closer and as they did, my resolve to hold out against her demands weakened. Her barely concealed grin showed that she knew exactly who was going to win this round.

Leaning forward, one of her hands traveled to my hip and the other descended between my legs, surprising me when she bypassed my cock and instead cupped my balls, gently rolling them across her fingertips.

"Careful," I warned, a shiver running through me, both from excitement at the unexpected gesture and fear of random, unintentional injury ruining the moment.

"Always," she whispered before taking my nipple in her mouth, circling it with her tongue and then tugging it between her teeth.

I exhaled heavily, thrusting out my chest and leaning back on my palms, giving her full, unfettered access to my body. Isabella alternated between languorous licks and teasing nibbles, making her way down to my hip bones before dragging her hand forward, up the crease of my thigh to where she could lightly grip the base of my cock. Her other hand joined in so that she was sliding them up, one after the other, over and over again. Looking down, I saw the muscles of my stomach shake with tension from the effort it took to keep my hands behind me.

"I can't…can't…Isabella? Please?"

Isabella glanced up at me, our eyes meeting the moment she stuck out her tongue and circled the head of my cock. "What?" she asked, smiling broadly with fake innocence. "Are you ready to give me what I want now?"

I nodded vigorously, snapping my body forward and grabbing her by the shoulders. I pushed her backwards so that she landed flat on her back against the pillows, and I followed her, settling between her legs. Before she could adjust to my sudden presence, I had her wrists in my hands, tucked under the ornate iron headboard, and pressed into the wall.

"Is this what you want? What you need?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, wrapping her legs around my waist and adjusting the position of her hips.

I moved at the same time, finding her entrance unguided, and worked my way inside, feeling her let me in and conform around me in a highly pleasurable vise. We struggled against each other, each trying to gain the upper hand in this age-old game of love, power and satisfaction. Our kisses turned to bites and our moans to growls. Limbs tangled together as we sought to force our bodies closer than was physically possible. She wrenched her hands free, her fingers making their way to the curls at the nape of my neck and tugging roughly. I did the same to her hair, yanking it so that I had easier access to the fragrant, sweet tasting skin behind her ear and down her neck.

Hooking my arm under her knee, I drew her leg up and sank further inside of her and moved in her slowly, grinding against her with each pass. My attention was so focused that she was able to surprise me and I suddenly found myself on my back with Isabella sitting happily astride me.

"I win!" she exclaimed, giggling and bouncing. Her breasts, always mesmerizing, had become even more so since the birth of our child. Where once I could cup their fullness in my hands, now they spilled over.

"I believe, my dear girl, that in just a short while, we'll both win."

"Mmm, make it happen."

"My pleasure, of course."

Holding her by the hips and thrusting rapidly inside of her, it seemed as if it were only moments later that she was throwing her head back and acknowledging my exceptional skills. Thankfully, the house was empty but for us. For once, we didn't have to concern ourselves with stifling the sounds of our lovemaking.

Isabella tumbled forward onto my chest, satiated, for the moment anyway. I, however, wasn't quite ready to be done with her. Rolling us back over, I stroked the length of her leg and wrapped it around my waist, holding it there, as she was unable to do it herself in her jelly-like state. My mouth found her nipples and she squealed, the sensation overwhelming so soon after orgasm, but I kept it up, her reaction amusing to me and her desperate squirming and laughing causing all sorts of delightful squeezing and friction.

"Let me go…let me go…let me go," she begged, giggling in between.

"No way, not yet," I answered, steadying myself on the mattress and driving into her with greater determination.

I silenced her with kisses, tongue circling tongue, teeth clanging, noses bumping. Again, her frantic movements matched mine and I both felt and heard her finish once more just as I met my own glorious end, panting and collapsing next to her.

"How long do we have until everyone arrives?"

"Not much longer I don't think. Hold on and I'll look."

Ruffling through my discarded clothes, I found my pocket watch. "An hour or less if they're on time."

Isabella groaned and threw her arm over her eyes. "We need to get away. Sometimes, I miss it being just us."

I leaned over her from the side of the bed and pecked lightly at her swollen lips. "I know; soon. I promise. They'll only be here for a few weeks and then everything will be back to normal again. And as soon as you're ready, we'll leave Emilie behind with Tanya and go on our delayed wedding trip."

I slid my hand down her stomach and circled her belly button with my fingertip. "Don't wait too long. It wouldn't do to have you pregnant again before we get to go."

"That would be our luck," she muttered, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed.

We washed and dressed side by side and were ready with only minutes to spare. Isabella dashed around, making sure that everything was in its place and that the spare rooms were all ready for our guests. I stayed out of her way, poured myself a glass of sherry and watched her flit around the room cleaning things that were already clean and grumbling about the smell of my cigars stinking up her draperies.

I heard the carriages approach before she did and I walked to the window in time to see the children spill out, all seven of them, in addition to the multiple travel-weary and exhausted adults.

By the time everyone was cleaned up and fed, it was dusk and we decided to gather in the garden to enjoy the warm night.

Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Rose, along with their growing brood had arrived in Paris a few days before from their temporary home in London. While Isabella and I had headed straight for France from America, the rest of them had gone to London to stay with relatives of Carlisle until such a time as it was safe for them to return, but the War Between the States was still dragging on with no victor in sight.

Jasper soon joined me, toting a bottle of our own precious commodity, the wine we struggled to produce everyday.

"I wish I would have stayed here with you. I never want to take a trip with that many children again."

I laughed and slapped his leg before grabbing the bottle from him. "It only gets worse, you know."

He groaned, nodding and settling back in his chair. "I'm sure you're right."

"Jasper!" Alice shouted from the doorway. "I need your assistance. Immediately."

"Holy Christ, Alice, I just sat down!"

"How unfortunate for you. Edward can wait, I can't. Neither can these two naughty little Whitlocks I've birthed for you."

Jasper rolled his eyes but was up without any further complaint and bounding back into the house. Seth came around the side of the house and at my invitation, sat down in the chair Jasper had just vacated. I offered him the bottle but he waved me off, as he always did. Tanya came running past, the twins hot on her heels and screaming at a level only small children can achieve. Seth's eyes followed Tanya's every move in a way reserved for those truly besotted. I wasn't always one to notice the little things, but his feelings for her had been obvious to me for some time.

"You're never going to get her if you don't speak up. You can't expect the poor girl to wait forever."

Seth's eyes snapped to mine and his mouth gaped open. "She's only ever thought of me like a little brother, Michie."

"Jesus, Seth, when are you going to learn to call me Edward?"

"Old habit, you know," he mumbled, staring off toward Tanya again.

She glanced his way and smiled. "I think she might enjoy your advances, but you have to tell her."

"Do you think so?"

"Truly, I do."

"Maybe then."

We sat in silence until Jasper returned, Emmett trailing after him with a hefty boy under each arm. Carlisle joined us as well and we sat around, telling stories and ribbing on each other until the ladies finally came out to the garden. Isabella settled onto my lap and Alice did the same with Jasper, their newest addition swaddled into a sling Alice had fashioned out of a long piece of material and fitted around her shoulders.

Emilie came bounding out of the house with Renee in a firm grip. She had gone straight from learning to walk, to running with no in between. I often thought how surprised I was she had even survived to be born, what with the terrible carriage rides under cover of darkness through the South, a short, unremarkable stay in Philadelphia, and the godforsaken voyage across the Atlantic.

While watching the frantic pace of her play, my mind wondered back to those earlier times, both the good and bad.

My bout of vomit-inducing illness was nothing compared to what Isabella withstood during the first week aboard ship. Having never been on a boat, or even outside of the confines of Louisiana, Isabella was ill prepared for the challenge of a long-term stint on the open ocean. I cared for her the best I was able, but quite often resorted to panicked worrying and fretting, which was all together unlike me.

She lost weight and spent most of the trip inside the cabin. It gave me plenty of time to contemplate our future plans and formulate goals for the near future. First plan of action: find a priest willing to marry us. Whereas this would have been nearly impossible in America, the clergy of France were not opposed, however, one look at her protruding belly and they would no doubt be full of discomfiting questions. As usual, money was and always has been the chief means by which I had gotten my way in any situation. People rarely stop to question anything when a bag of gold was waved under their noses.

We met up with Jasper and Alice when we reached Paris. They had already been married for several months by the time we arrived, and money was tight since Jasper had sent word to his father that he would not be returning and why. His father had cut him off completely –no money, no inheritance. They only had what they had brought with them and Jasper was growing nervous over the fate of his family. He had neither prospects for employment, nor any contacts in France.

Before I could think about helping Jasper, I had to tie up a few of my own loose ends.

Despite my assurances that she could have it any way she liked, Isabella decided she'd rather be married somewhere small and without any fanfare. I didn't argue; I was just happy she was willing to marry me at all.

I had met Jacob a few days after we had arrived in Paris, and found him exceedingly standoffish. He stuck close to Isabella, pulling her off to the side and engaging her in a low, but heated conversation I was too far away to overhear. I knew his opinion carried a lot of weight with her, so I tried to appear unfazed and unconcerned by his paternal display. Through the entire conversation, Isabella never swayed from her resolute stance, stroking his arm and speaking reassuringly until he took a deep breath and nodded. The rest of the evening, he was more solicitous of my presence and actively tried to make conversation with me, though it was stilted and filled with uncomfortable silences.

In the interlude between our meeting and the wedding, Isabella met with Jacob on her own several times, but refused to tell me why. She would only giggle and shake her head. The day before the wedding was to take place, Alice and Jacob arrived early and sent me away to meet Jasper at a café on the Left Bank. I raised a brow at the suggestion, knowing that the Left Bank was full of libertines, bohemians and other such purveyors of licentious behavior, because of which, I knew the area quite well, but Isabella nodded and pushed me out the door, telling me to have a good time and she'd see me on the 'morrow.

I found Jasper easily and we spent the better part of the day strolling through the finest drinking establishments the city of Paris had to offer, Jasper reminding me constantly that this was my last chance to roam the streets a free man. We stopped at a few cabarets, caught a decadent cancan show and then found a comfortably quiet bar in which to spend the rest of the evening.

Jasper and I balanced gingerly on our stools, an entire day's worth of drinking starting to catch up with us. When the bartender approached, Jasper shouted something about my upcoming nuptials and it seemed most of our fellow patrons came over to slap me on the back and offer up unsolicited advice. Most of which was slurred, or maybe it was my hearing that was the issue, possibly both.

Someone bought us another round and the bartender filled two glasses with vibrant emerald green liquid, unmistakably Absinthe. He fitted a slotted spoon over the rim and popped a sugar cube on top before slowing pouring cool water over it, the emerald green turning into a cloudy mist on contact. Without hesitation, Jasper and I toasted and downed the newly popular drink, its sweet taste reminiscent of licorice.

Several more rounds followed before we were offered a chance to sit in on a card game. I hadn't had the opportunity to play in months, so of course I was willing and eager. Jasper shook his head, signaling that he didn't think it was a good idea, but I dragged him along behind me and sat him down, shoving a wad of cash at him and demanding that he get in the game.

For the first few hands, my game was terrible, but as I got my swimming head back in the right place, I eventually improved to the point where I was making modest gains. Jasper lost everything I had given him and was forced to sit out.

One of the other players, a young nobleman, was the main competition at the table. He reminded me of myself when I was his age: cocky, self-assured, and very, very good at the game.

The other men folded left and right until it was just the boy and me. He leaned back in his chair, unnaturally composed and smug. When it came time to place our final bets, he did something which gave me déjà vu. He wagered his ancestral home.

Jasper, who hadn't been paying too much attention up until that point, was suddenly very interested in our proceedings. He was even more interested when I won the hand and agreed to take the deed instead of money. The boy seemed almost gleeful as he handed it over, which confused me mightily.

I offered to buy him a drink, but he said he didn't have time to hang about and hastily departed, taking his friends with him. Jasper and I stayed, continuing to drink in celebration of our newly acquired property.

Late in the night, Jasper and I were literally hanging on each other, laughing and propping ourselves against the bar to keep from falling off our stools. From the corner of my bleary eye, I spotted a familiar, disapproving face.

After noticing that he had my attention, Seth approached, gripped Jasper and I both by the collar and tugged us toward the door. We sloppily followed Seth who towered over us both in height, his muscular frame bearing the brunt of our weight.

Thankfully, the ceremony wasn't to take place until the evening, so when Jasper and I woke up groggily and in physical disrepair on his hotel room floor late that morning, we still had adequate time to recover and get ready.

With Seth there to keep us focused, Jasper and I were washed, dressed and looking respectable in record time. I wondered how Isabella was fairing between Alice and Jacob both dressing and primping her, and I was very anxious to see her myself. Seldom were we separated for any length of time and I hadn't spent a night apart from her since we left New Orleans.

Between the pounding in my head and my annoyance at being without Isabella, I was too grumpy to be nervous, and very ready for to get to the main event.

We were to be married quietly at the Church of Saint Peter of Montmartre on the Right Bank, near the hotel where Isabella and I were staying. Jasper fidgeted unrelentingly the entire carriage ride to the church with both Seth and I glaring at him from the corner of our eyes. I had no idea what he was so nervous about; he wasn't the one getting married. Maybe he thought I was going to run at the last minute and he'd be left to explain it Isabella. I'd like to say that he should have known me better, but really, it wouldn't have been entirely out of character for me.

Without mishap, we made it to the church and entered by the side door. The altar was decked in white linen with the sweet smell of flowers and the underlying heavy musk of incense wafting through the entire sanctuary. I muddled around, waiting to be told what to do and when. At some point, Jacob emerged from a back room and pulled me into place. I finally started feeling a trifle nervous knowing the time was drawing near, but I knew all that would be dispelled as soon as I laid eyes on Isabella.

Jasper steadied me with a reassuring pat on the back, and I looked out into the pews as the organ began. Only Renee, Tanya and Seth, along with Jacob's wife were in attendance, but I couldn't have cared less who was here to see us. Alice emerged first, her pale yellow frock fitting her beautifully and causing Jasper's audible inhale beside me. She grinned knowingly at him, smirking as she madder her way up the main aisle. I wanted to laugh at his obvious and blatant infatuation, but it was halted by Isabella's appearance at the rear of the church. Jacob accompanied her, but it was only her that I really saw. Enveloped in a stunning gown of taffeta and tulle with a high waist that cleverly concealed her expanding belly, Isabella floated down the aisle toward me. Her hair tumbled forward in loose curls over her shoulders, the rest covered by a floor-length solid, satin veil. The dim candlelight highlighted her glowing skin and brilliant smile, which faltered only a moment when she nearly miss-stepped. Jacob quickly steadied her and they continued on toward the altar. The seconds it took for her to reach my outstretched hand dragged on forever, but once Jacob had handed her off and she was in my arms, I knew I wouldn't ever let her go.

I supported her up the stairs and helped her to kneel with me in front of the altar, the voice of the priest settling firmly in the background, as all my attention was focused on her. Several times, I missed my cue and didn't say my lines when I should have, only to have Isabella crack a smile and crinkle her nose at my inability to pay attention to anything other than her completely distracting beauty.

I survived the lengthy ceremony, albeit it was through a haze of lust. I didn't understand how God did not strike me dead for having so many lascivious thoughts as I knelt before His altar. I rationalized that it wasn't my fault; Isabella and I hadn't been together in _that_ way since the night I had left her on the boat in New Orleans. I was certain I hadn't been celibate that long since adolescence.

Finally, the old French priest gave the last blessing upon our union and I gathered Isabella up in my arms and released a barrage of kisses I had been holding inside since the service began. She giggled in my effervescent embrace, but I held her closer still until the priest's progressively louder throat clearing caught my attention. Silly old man looked positively scandalized, as if I had laid her down and consummated the marriage on the altar stairs. I shrugged off his cross looks and practically carried her down the aisle; that's how anxious I was to have her to myself.

I entered the decorated carriage first and tugged her in after me, pulling her and her massive gown right down onto my lap. I had my face buried in her neck and my hand inching down the top of bodice before the door was even closed. Isabella gasped in surprise and tried to wriggle free but I held her firm against me.

"Edward, they'll be waiting for us at the hotel! You can't have me all pulled apart!" she whisper-shrieked.

I groaned, laid my head on her cleavage and tried to control my heavy breathing.

"Soon enough, Edward, soon enough we'll be alone, " she reassured me, combing her fingers through my hair.

"How quickly can we politely get rid of everyone?"

If I thought the ceremony was interminable, having our apartment brimming over with family when all I wanted to do was to drag my wife into the bedchamber and have my way with her as many times as possible, was worse. It was like they knew we couldn't wait for them to leave so they stayed longer on purpose. Isabella wouldn't allow me to pick them up and carry them out the door as I had suggested to her under my breath. Instead, the longer they stayed, the more childish and petulant I became. Jasper kept covering his mouth with his hand to giggle into his sleeve and Jacob stood centurion-like by the door, his expression once again grim. I wondered if he thought he was protecting his sister's virtue, and how much longer it would take for him to realize that that ship had long since sailed?

The moment I thought my patience would finally-and rudely-break, Alice grabbed Isabella by the arm and towed her away to the bedchamber. I knew by Isabella's ruddy cheeks that they were up to something, and I waited anxiously for the result.

After another quarter hour of mindless chatter had been inflicted on me, Alice came out alone, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Everyone out!" she announced. In that moment, I loved her more than whiskey and poker combined.

As graciously as I could, I thanked them all as they rushed out the door, Jacob tossing me one last glower for good measure. After I had made doubly sure that the door was locked and secure, I threw off my frock coat, yanked my collar loose, and unsnapped my suspenders. I was across the apartment in several large strides and burst through the bedchamber door to find…an empty room. Momentarily confused, I swung around until I noticed light creeping out from under the dressing room door.

"Give me another moment, please," Isabella called out from the other side of the door.

The aroma of honeysuckle, thick in the air, was most concentrated by the bedside. The scent was forever connected in my mind with that first dance with Isabella; how she felt in my arms, my instant interest and attraction to her, and my foolish treatment of her, as well.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I saw the tiny, fragrant blossoms littering the sheets. She must have been purposefully resurrecting this memory.

The door popped open behind me and I turned to see Isabella silhouetted in the doorway. She wore a floor length, beaded satin nightgown held up by tiny shoulder straps. There was no concealing her growing belly but instead of feeling strange like I thought I would, I merely desired her more. I smiled in eager anticipation while her own expression was somewhat more tentative. Her long hair fell loose, skirting her plump behind, which I had been actively trying to make plumper by bringing home half the contents of the neighborhood confectionery. I had made it my mission since we had landed on solid ground, to insist on forcing as much nourishment into her as possible. I didn't want her losing any more weight and endangering the baby, and selfishly, I'd always loved a warm, sturdy woman best. Too small and they start sliding up the bed just when you hit a good, hard rhythm.

Making her way over to me slowly, Isabella's hips swayed a sultry invitation while the slippery fabric jostled temptingly as she moved. The sheen of the fabric against her skin caught the dim light of the oil lamps, making her almost seem to glow.

Her appearance and the fragrant flowers reminded me of a poem I was once made to learn and recite, and it came unbidden to my lips.

"_Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,_

_Hid in this silent, dull retreat,_

_Untouched thy homed blossoms blow,_

_Unseen thy little branches greet:_

_No roving foot shall crush thee here,_

_No busy hand provoke a tear_."

Isabella reached the bedside and stood between my legs. "Really, Edward? …'_the space between is but an hour, The frail duration of a flower_?' Such gloomy thoughts for a wedding night."

I shrugged, rubbing my hands up and down the outside of her thighs. "I only paid attention to the pretty parts."

She giggled. "That's so very like you to say."

"There is truth to it though," I pointed out, moving my head to rest on her belly, "No one can touch you here. No man can tell me I can't have you, can't tell me we aren't supposed to be together."

"We wouldn't let anyone dare tell us that before. Now it's just official. You were always mine, in all the ways that matter. Je t'aime, mon chéri."

"Moi aussi, je t'aime."

"That came out sounding far better than any of your butchered French during the ceremony."

"They _are _the most important words. I practiced to impress you, I'll have you know."

"Good thing for you, it's always been quite easy for you to impress me. Your pretty face gets you far."

"And your saucy tongue keeps me interested. What else can you do with it?" I baited her.

"Wouldn't you like to find out?"

"Without a doubt. Show me."

Isabella nudged my shoulders with her fingertips and I promptly fell back against the mattress. She climbed up and straddled me before pulling open my dress shirt, one button at a time, and teasingly running her palms down my chest and stomach.

"I missed this…so much," she whispered. "It's been a long time and I've changed. Just look at me; I'm enormous!" she half-laughed, half-sobbed.

Sitting up, I gathered her in my arms, pressing my head to her bosom. "I like you this way; beautifully round and full with my child. In fact, I think I'll keep you this way in perpetuity. How many do you think we can make together? A dozen? More?"

She swatted at me playfully and giggled. "You stay away from me, Edward Cullen. I refuse to raise a dozen children that will no doubt be brats just like you."

Hearing that name from her lips was still odd. After learning of my own father's treachery, I decided as soon as we reached France that I would no longer carry his name. The Masen line would die with him.

Mostly because of Emmett's pleading, I asked Carlisle if he would mind much if I took his name. At first, he was quite taken aback, but he seemed enthusiastic and my mother nearly doubled over with joy.

"Oh, Mrs. Cullen, they may be even worse, especially since they'll be half of you too."

Isabella grew silent, her expression wistful. "What's wrong? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be perfect angels and never give you an ounce of trouble."

"No, it's not that. I'm only surprised, I guess."

"At what?"

"How much I love hearing you say that. I never really thought I'd be anyone's 'Mrs.' I knew I didn't feel the _need _to be before, but it's different now. I want it. I want you, and I _know_ that will never change."

"I hope not. I'd be lost without you. Honestly, I'm half lost with you. If I didn't have you to snatch me back from the brink, I'd be in sorry shape that's for sure. You remind me of everything that's good and right with the world, everything I should concern myself with and nothing that I shouldn't. You're what's important to me. You …and my demon spawn, of course."

"Demon spawn?" she shook her head, "We should come up with a suitable name so you stop calling it all of these heinous nicknames."

"Absolutely, but not right now. Right now, I have an appointment with my wife, an appointment which I long to keep and can't wait to commence."

"Don't let me be the one to keep you waiting then."

Unfortunately, just as I was about to continue my mental reminiscences, a two and half foot tall barrel of ceaseless energy bounded into my lap, causing me to simultaneously groan and shriek when her knee connected painfully with a place no man wants injured.

The snickers of the guests were both audible and irritating.

After I had somewhat recovered, Emilie, in her frilly white dress, which was already streaked with grass stains and speckles of mud, began showing me a new dolly that had been brought for her from England by Esme. She excitedly chittered on, half in English and half in some polyglot language of Creole and indecipherable infant-speak.

I nodded occasionally, but like her mother, she didn't really need my approval or opinion, she already owned my heart.

While the adults lounged, the children continued to frolic on the lawn. Those not yet capable of frolicking, lazed on blankets laid out flat and in clear view of their mothers.

So much had changed on the estate that this would not have been possible two years before. Late in the day following our wedding night, I had remembered to tell Isabella about the results of the late night poker game. I distinctly remember her rolling her eyes and exclaiming that she couldn't believe I had another deed dropped in my lap, and hadn't I learned anything the first time?

I did in fact learn a lesson when we took a carriage ride out to view the property a few days later. We rode past the vineyard first and found it to be in sad shape and seriously neglected. The house itself was immense, with three stories and multiple wings, but it too looked as if it had long been deserted. Any hope of fixing it would be quite costly and labor intensive.

Upon returning to Paris that same day, I immediately found a lawyer and deposited funds in a bank account for the reconstruction. And then my lawyer uncovered more lovely news: the whole estate was mired in debt and I was now responsible for it. No wonder the boy was so gleeful to unload it on me. Isabella shook her head and gave me a very wifely version of I-told-you-so, but by that point, Jasper and I were knee-deep in construction plans and were almost too excited about getting to work.

With child-like enthusiasm, Jasper and I rode out to the estate daily to start clearing debris and gathering locals from the nearby village, enticing them with cash payments for hard work. Alice and Isabella came with us a few times, but having Isabella walking around an unsafe structure was entirely too nerve racking for me, and I eventually resorted to begging her to stay behind at the hotel. She never said it aloud, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't want to give birth in a hotel, and that only spurred me on harder. I had so little time, and I wanted desperately to give her a home in which to bring our child into this world. I only hoped she could hold out a few more weeks until we had one wing habitable and brought up to snuff.

Neither Jasper nor I knew a damn thing about running a vineyard or wine-making, but seeing as we had no other plans or really, anything else going for us, we decided to try our hand at it. Some of the older men from the village were nicely forthcoming with their knowledge and filled our heads with stories of how fertile and productive the land once was and with just a wee bit of help, could be so again. Nearly every franc I had was dumped into the project. Every pair of hands that came to me were put to work, and every ounce of energy, blood and sweat I had in my body was devoted to seeing it through.

I would forever be in debt to Alice and Tanya, especially Tanya, who stayed with us for love and not force or coercion. She could have left us and chose to forge her own path, but she remained, always helpful, always putting others first. Alice and Isabella had a strong bond as blood sisters, but extended that bond to include Tanya. They were as thick as thieves, with Jasper, Seth and I sometimes jealously aware of their uncanny symbiosis. When Isabella was too far along and could no longer leave the hotel, Alice and Tanya stayed by her side, their children in tow, while Jasper and I worked twenty-hour days, furiously trying to finish in time.

Four days before the baby was due to arrive, I had Isabella and all of our belongings bundled into a carriage for the hour ride out to our estate. It still wasn't pretty, but it was habitable. Half way there, she was gripping her stomach and biting her lip. I peppered her with questions, but she refused to talk until I was nearly out of my mind with worry. Banging on the carriage door and shouting for the carriage driver to move faster, we jostled up and down on the bumpy country roads at a speedy clip, until finally arriving at the house. I was so very thankful that Alice and Jasper had arrived ahead of us and that I didn't even have to open my mouth for Alice to know what was happening.

Scooping Isabella up in my arms, I carried her across the lawn and into the finished wing, to a room that was already setup for just this purpose. Within seconds, Tanya and Alice were attending her and simultaneously pushing Jasper, the children, and I out the door with promises that they'd be back for me in due time. There was nothing for me to do but sit and wait, and I have never been a patient man. I paced. I wandered to and fro around the lawn, poking around leftover debris and building materials. I waited. I listened, but all I heard was silence. It was nothing like the terrible night that Tanya delivered, her pained screams still echoing in my ears. I even hovered around the door, my ear pressed against the wood, but there was nothing but rushed footsteps, the sound of swooshing skirts and low whispers.

Several hours passed and I resorted to crouching on the back steps, elbows on knees and all ten fingers yanking and pulling at my hair. Jasper sat, cool as a cucumber, smoking and grinning at me in the most annoying manner. Seth had taken himself off to hide in the barn, or as he said, work on some of the old machinery.

Just as twilight covered the fields, a single cry rang out, and I vaulted up the stairs and into the hallway in time to see the door fly open and Alice emerge, smiling and sweaty, mopping her brow with her apron.

"She's here!"

"Who?" I asked absentmindedly, pushing past Alice and dropping to my knees at Isabella's bedside.

She looked exhausted, drained pale and barely awake, but she cracked a little grin. Her hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes were bloodshot, but she was beautiful to me because she lived.

Grabbing her hand and placing her palm against my cheek, I whispered to her how worried I had been, how happy I was to see her in one piece.

"Shhh, Edward, I'm fine, really, just tired." She slid her hand through my hair, offering her soothing touch for a moment before reaching over to her other side and pulling the blanket down, revealing the squirming bundle nestled under her arm. Dark, curly hair, as black as Alice's and as thick as Isabella's covered the infant's head. At first glance, it appeared to have all the necessary parts and in the right amounts.

"She's a girl. I hope you're not disappointed."

"Disappointed?" I scoffed. "Absolutely not. Already trepidatious about the future? Completely."

"Because she might fall in love with someone like you someday?" Isabella chuckled.

As soon as she instilled that thought in my brain, I involuntarily wheezed and coughed. "Please, I'd like to be able to sleep easy for a few years. You and she are _my_ girls, indefinitely. "

The infant let out a deafening cry and Isabella moved immediately to comfort her. I crawled into the bed so that Isabella could lie with her back against me while she tended to the little one. I pulled her damp hair back, off her neck and forehead, and watched on as she untied the top of her dressing gown and led the hungry babe to her breast.

"We never decided on a name." Isabella reminded me.

My fingertips drifted over the soft skin of the baby's cheek as it sucked. "I think maybe…maybe Emilie, for without her help we might not have had this little one at all."

"I think that's a fine choice; what I would have chosen as well."

Lost in my daydreams of the past, I failed to notice that my very tired little girl had dozed off mid-sentence in my arms. Isabella came eventually to collect her and take her to bed, as did Rose, Alice, and Tanya with their children. Before too long, it was only the adults remaining outside, seated around a small, homey fire to keep off the chill from the night air. Bottles of our finest made the rounds and the conversation turned to silliness, leaving me the butt of many jokes. Isabella would laugh and I would glare at her from the corner of my eye, but I knew it was all in good fun. Mostly.

Two by two, the couples departed for their beds, first Carlisle and Esme, then Rose and Emmett, pleading fatigue from travel. Tanya and Seth left within minutes of each other, both heading toward their separate living quarters, and I wondered when and if they would ever get each other figured out.

Isabella came back and perched on my lap. "I forgot to tell you; we had a letter from the post today."

"Hmm, and who's that from?"

"Well, it has no return address, but I think you might find its contents interesting, and possibly troubling. I don't know how you'll react."

She reached into her pocket and produced an envelope, which she laid in my outstretched hand. Emptying it onto her lap, I found two newspaper clippings but no letter. Unfolding the first, I leaned toward the fire to catch the light. It was an image of a couple, along with an announcement of marriage. The man I didn't recognize, but as my eyes drifted across the page, I saw the other half of the couple was Emilie. The caption read, 'Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church pastor weds Island Émigré.'

"Do you think he knows the truth?"

"I don't know, Edward, but if anyone knows, it would be her husband. It makes me very happy to know that's she's been able to start again. I've been worried since the day she left us on foot with no belongings. I can't even imagine how long it took her to reach…Where is this from again?"

"It looks like it's a little town in Pennsylvania, somewhere between Gettysburg and Philadelphia if memory serves me right. Why did you think this would upset me?"

"Not this one. Take a peek at the other clipping."

Setting one down and picking the other up, I saw that it was only text. It came from a different newspaper and was almost a year old. The headline read, 'Yankee Businessman Hanged after Scheme to Swindle Davis Government Uncovered.'

I let it flutter from my hand to the ground. Truth be told, I didn't know how to react. I had barely thought of him in the last two years, and when I did, it was with malice, but he was still my father.

Isabella looked down at me, her fingers fiddling with my hair and her lips pursed expectantly.

"I'm fine. It's fine."

She clicked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly. "We'll talk about it later."

"I'd prefer not to discuss my feelings on the matter."

"Of course you wouldn't. When do you ever?"

"When I'm drunk. Maybe if you wait a bit longer, you'll find out."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't know that I care to. I think I might just take myself off to bed. Without you."

Her implication suddenly became clear to me. "Don't be upset with me; you know how I am," I plead.

"I think I do, and better than anyone else. If you won't talk to me, talk to Jasper." She slid off my lap. "I'm going in for the night."

Isabella stopped halfway across the lawn and spoke in hushed tones to Alice, who had been comfortably sitting across Jasper's knees, just out of earshot of our conversation. The two of them took off together, leaving Jasper staring at me with annoyance. He hated it when I was the jerk and he still ended up getting punished.

Slowly, he ambled over, foisting a bottle under my nose and rolling his eyes. "Come on, Edward, let's talk about our feelings so the ladies let us back in."

**BPOV**

"I can't believe it's still this difficult to get him to speak plainly," I muttered to Alice as we made our way into the darkened hall. I held my lantern out in front to negotiate the long passages without tripping.

"He might learn…before he's eighty!" she chuckled.

"Since you've been known to see the future, I guess that means chances are bleak?"

"Let's just say, I wouldn't bet on him suddenly changing and becoming more open. You're about as in as is possible with him."

We turned a corner and the lantern light revealed two figures. "Oh," I nearly dropped the lantern in surprise.

Seth and Tanya were locked in an embrace, their arms around each other's waist and their mouths performing a sultry duet. That was, until they noticed our presence. Tanya blushed crimson and Seth hid his face in her hair.

"It's about time. Come, Bella, let's not interrupt since Seth has finally found the courage that God gave him."

Alice brushed past the alcove they were partially hidden in, and I followed briskly. We both took ourselves off to bed with hope of a few hours rest. The children would almost certainly be up early even though we'd let them stay up far later than usual.

I was awakened by the first light of dawn, and noticed that Edward's side of the bed was still cold. Worried, I flung on a dressing gown and slippers before marching outside. There he lay with Jasper, multiple empty bottles between the two of them, and the dying embers of the fire giving off little warmth.

"You know, they'll never really change," Alice spoke from somewhere behind me.

"I know, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

**And there you have it. The adventures of this ExB are (mostly) over. I do have at least one outtake planned, so if you care to see it, you can keep me on alert.**

**Now, on to the list of lovely ladies to thank (I'm sure I'll forget someone since this is over a year in the making) Binky and Emma for beta'ing all the way thru, Charmie and several others for stepping in in a pinch to beta on the fly, including JadedandBoring and BelleDean for stepping in to make sure this epilogue was readable!**

**Charmie, QuantumFizzX, Ikss, KatHat, xrxdanixrx, Holly1980 amongst others who rec'd, blogged and twittered about this fic, which made me feel all special inside :)**

**The really, really nice readers and reviewers who made this so much fun! Some of you I only heard from once, and some of you dropped me a line each time, but either way, and no matter what you said (good or...scary) your input was valued and appreciated!**

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**


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